This weekend we went to the Redwood forest of Northern California. Since we live in southern Oregon, that’s only a couple of hours from us. I remember learning about the magnificent trees as a child and always dreamed of seeing them one day. I never imagined, though, that I would live close enough to drive to the national forest on a whim. There are so many interesting facts about these rare trees. Maybe I’ll delve further into that one day on a different post.

The sky was clear so the chances that we would be hit with the normal Pac Northwest rain were slim. Thankfully, we didn’t even need jackets–it was perfect. Picture perfect. Too bad the digital camera is putting out blurry photos. . . no really, it is–it’s not due to an unsteady hand. The nice thing is that there is so much fodder for scenes–especially in fantasy fiction.

After our tromp in the woods, we drove the ten short minutes to the coast. If you’ve ever been to the Oregon Coast you know what I’m talking about when I say it is beautiful—there is nothing that can compare. Well. . .except maybe the Redwoods (or Crater Lake). But amazingly it was extremely cold, the fierce wind tormented us, but still we donned our jackets and walked the beach. That’s something you wouldn’t do unless it was worth it. Of course, we didn’t last too long before we climbed back into the car and headed home.

On the curvy mountain road home, between bouts of nausea, I considered how different the ocean and the redwood forest are–yet both are breath-taking. This led me to think of how that compares to writing styles and why not? I’m a writer! I’m involved in three critique groups and as I’ve already mentioned in the previous post, finaled in a contest–all of these are subjective. The saying goes Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. So I pose a question to you. . .is it so hard to appreciate different styles, still considering them “beautiful” despite the fact that maybe it’s not what we ourselves enjoy, or a style that we would choose for ourselves?