Our first stay in Washington was at Grayland Beach State Park, on the Pacific Ocean, a quintessential Pacific Northwest beach experience. For three days there we walked the beach collecting seashells and sand dollars, and marveled at the glorious intersection of water, land, and clouds.
Sand underfoot was hot at the dunes near our campsite, then cold at the far seashore half a mile of blown sand away.
Strolling alone through fog banks in bright sunshine, it was hard to tell where the ocean ended and the shore or sky began, with horizons vanishing into hazy mists and sapphire reflections. And while we had to bundle against the stiff ocean breeze, skittering platoons of industrious shorebirds minded not at all.
Where the dunes meet the sea. 
Wave patterns on the beach at low tide. 
Windblown sands near the shore. 
The fog rolls in. 
Glenn toting our shoes while we enjoy the feel of cool water on our feet. 
More arboreal remains buried by the dunes. 
Shore birds chase and scatter with the waves.