Beach road
The people near our Yachats place mark my tides of time
Sad deserted shore,
Your fickle friends are leaving,
Ah, but then you know it’s time for them to go,
But I will still be here,
I have no thought of leaving.
I do not count the time
Who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
—Judy Collins
Gail and Paul’s geographic locator pole, including places dear to them, and their driftwood-roofed free lib…
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