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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.

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Red Post

UmberDove


Summertime in the PNW. This day at the beach did not require a bathing suit, but rather, a hoodie and a hat - nothing like the summer-beach memories of Santa Barbara or even Santa Cruz. No, my beaches now hold an exquisite melancholy, full of beauty and the perfect setting for long contemplative thoughts. This day was grey and drizzly, low 60s, but I just kept finding warmth. The bright colors seemed to jump up from the sandy shore and I made for myself a nest of red to ward off the chill while I sat and watched the waters.