A break in our labors

We are painting the bathroom of the little cottage Sue’s father built in the 70s. Conventional wisdom might argue against painting an interior on a day when it is pouring rain, but since it hasn’t stopped for months, and maintaining that little house in a rain forest entails a constant battle against mildew and mold, we went for it. Woodstove blazing, oil-filled heaters radiating, fan blowing. It stopped raining for a while on Thursday afternoon and we rewarded ourselves with a walk on the beach. We had the entire Pacific ocean and the whole Oregon coast, as far as the eye could see, to ourselves.

From a book taken from the shelf at the beach house, The Glass Harmonica: a Lexicon of the Fantastical, by Barbara Ninde Byfield (1967): 

In Marshes, Bogs, and Fens:

Herons, storks, terns
Preserved ships
Fleeing Clergy and Elves
Pennywort, Pimpernel, Saxifrage, and Asphodel
Bogeymen
Convicts
Cattails
Reeds, Rushes, Osiers
Will-o’-the-Wisps
Netters of fish and fowl, and their stilted huts on hummocks.