
I've struggled to define a Thanksgiving tradition since returning to Oregon five years ago. I have childhood memories of watching stormy seas and walking deserted beaches. This year, I decided to spend some time in Astoria, a small town not too far from where I grew up.

I decided to try out a small cabin in a newly renovated hotel, and to explore downtown on foot with my camera.

My trip coincided with the beginning of the St. Lucia Festival of Lights, where the opening ceremony was being held at the local high school.

Naturally, I visited some old favorites, too: the Astor Column, the Astoria-Megler bridge, the Home Bakery.

I think, perhaps, I've found my new Thanksgiving tradition.