Lighthouse Beach—Yachats, Oregon

Standing on the beach at night feels new in the same way that rereading a book from your childhood feels new. It’s something strange and familiar and thrilling. You aren’t quite sure where you are, but for once it doesn’t matter. The ocean has no concept of time or its position in the universe. It doesn’t care where it’s waves crash; where it collides with the earth.

Climbing hills of redwood and pine on either side of you turn the secluded beachfront into a sanctuary from reality. In the distance, an old lighthouse has just begun to shine. It spins in a circle, illuminating the sea, the cliffs, the iron bridge, you, the hillside, and the sea again. The pulsing light is a siren, drawing you to the water's edge. Wet sand sticks to the bottom of your feet and all you can think about is jumping in and swimming wherever the ocean takes you.

Does magic exist? If so, every crevice of this beach is bursting with it. If not, then there is no need for magic. Not when places like this exist. You watch the waves roll in and out and you have to catch your breath because there’s something about this hidden shoreline that keeps taking it away.