I am writing this in a notepad while sitting on a driftlog with my back to the ocean. It’s 7:30 in the morning and rain threatens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some 30 feet away an older, grizzled man is sitting on the sand and drumming an overturned paint bucket with his hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He saw me a few minutes ago and smiled a big smile on his weathered face. He took off his ear buds. I asked him if I could listen and he said sure. I asked him if I could take a picture. He said sure. He asked me how it sounded and I said great. He told me he was playing along to Paul Simon’s Graceland<\/em> and then pulled out a tiny speaker, fiddled with his phone, and then the album began playing. I could barely hear that classic record but when he began drumming along to it, I heard that fine and the sounds of percussion drifted to me on the breeze while the ocean provided its low harmony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I feel rain drop on my head. It’s going to bust loose soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He is barefoot, wearing a gray hoodie and an oil skin brimmed hat. Pinned to the hat is a Grateful Dead pin. An ornate staff is stuck in the sand near him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n More droplets fall. I get up to go. I tell him thanks for the show. I wish I could have tipped him but my wallet is at home. I pass by and notice his shoes and a bag of chips behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A minute later I am on the road above him. A squall whips up and I pick up my pace. I turn around and see him still drumming away, in the rain, while the surf lands closer and closer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I am writing this in a notepad while sitting on a driftlog with my back to the ocean. It’s 7:30 in the morning and rain threatens. Some 30 feet away an older, grizzled man is sitting on the sand and drumming an overturned paint bucket with his hands. He saw me a few minutes ago […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6064,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6063","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-oregon-beaches","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6063","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6063"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6063\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6066,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6063\/revisions\/6066"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6064"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6063"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6063"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6063"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}