The Way We Live.

Weather rules here in Port Orford, on the southern Oregon coast.
Sure, the calendar says summer. The rains have dwindled to once, twice a month.

Yet, we're still in a watery mist most of the time, with green life all around, in a variety of shades and shapes. We breathe moist air all year long. Even in summer.

We are surrounded by water and watery images more than man-made images.

At one time, this place was a bustling fishing port. Before this dock was erected, ships docked in open areas, in the bay, largely unprotected from hurricane-force winds that clobber these shores.  Routinely, tempestuous winds and high waves destroyed whole fleet.  
At present,  sixty to seventy  vessels fish regularly in these waters.

You'd think the town would have access to the fish caught here. All of it, is shipped out the minute it arrives on land. Crab is shipped live, in tanks, for premium prices.  If the locals want local fish they need to befriend a local fisherman.

A couple of times a year, the town is treated to a fish fry or a crab feast, courtesy of the local Rotary or the local fishermen.  Then, all proceeds go to local causes, like scholarships for our high school students.

By July, the town has swelled, doubled, tripled. Relatives drop in to celebrate holidays here, try their hands at fishing on the rivers, from the docks.  Fishing is the number one sport, followed by kayaking, biking, golfing.

Did I mention we are only 23 miles from the world renowned resort links of Bandon Dunes?

Yes, in the same supermarket line, we come face to face with millionaires who fly their own jets to play a weekend of golf here, as well as the local fishermen who can barely support their families some years.

One thing for sure: we all wear wind-breakers, all year. The millionaire's is definitely Gore-Tex.