After The Party's Over

The people go back to their houses, their balloons forgotten on the beach. The tide seemingly welcomes an expanded palette for it shreds and reshapes the party leftovers to use in abstract art.

Next week Mardi Gras beads will find their way to the beach, but the tide doesn't like to work with beads and probably will ignore them.

Onward Through The Fog

My girl Nancy flew down from Colorado for a short visit. I had ordered warm weather, but neglected to specify sunshine to go with it. Every day was foggy but we went to the beach anyway. Nancy recorded the scene.

The air was so thick with moisture that it condensed on everything, even this tiny feather.

In the distance we saw what appeared to be a flock of sheep.

But they turned out to be Great Pyrenees dogs out for a walk. Nancy quickly made friends.

Before leaving, we stopped to admire a sand sculpture.

I didn't miss the sun because Nancy is sunshine personified.

Ephemera

 The tide is an abstract artist, working in the medium of sand.

Sometimes the tide and the wind collaborate.

Even more transitory than Andy Goldsworthy's work, these sand sculptures will be gone by evening.

I'll be back tomorrow to wander through this gallery of fleeting art.

What We Need Right Now

Harsh winter weather is creating havoc across much of the country, Egypt is in chaos, and millions of our citizens are out of work. We have a lot to worry about.

What we need right now is an active sense of humor. We need things that make us smile, such as my favorite beach house.

We may also need a bowl of chocolate pudding and some escape literature to help us hang on until spring and hope return.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Recently I declared that the worst part of growing old is that the same things happen again and again. Cooking meals, celebrating holidays and birthdays, cleaning out closets, and other repetitive events made me feel I was caught in a do-loop.

I never should have said it because ever since I've had one unpleasant new experience after another. Recently it's been a car that wouldn't start in wet weather. Yesterday the Honda dealership repaired that problem. Today temperatures fell into the low twenties -- rare in Galveston -- and there's no electricity in Sea Isle. The power went out at 8:30 a.m. and is still off at 2:00 p.m. The uninsulated house on stilts is too cold now for habitation.

The public library seemed a good refuge, but I found myself standing in dark stacks and then tripped over a step stool as I groped my way back to the entrance. This, I learned, was due to rolling blackouts necessitated by the unusual demand for heating. This part of the country is simply not prepared for cold weather.

Temperatures will remain below freezing all this week, culminating in sleet and snow beginning on Thursday night and continuing through Friday. Rolling blackouts no doubt will continue.

At this point I sure would welcome a boring, repetitive day!

Sea Isle

Not every house on the West end of Galveston Island is large and ostentatious. I know of two enclaves of modest homes where people actually live. One is Palm Beach and the other is Sea Isle, where my rented house is located.

Here are two examples of lived-in houses in Sea Isle:

Four or five businesses are located here, including the marina "bait camp" and store,

A nice restaurant next to them,

And the Sea Isle Supermarket, where I do not shop.

Finally, here's my little Sea Isle house, where I feel right at home.

Sorry to say, houses like this aren't built here any more. All the new houses are MacMansions and there are far too many of them.

Rainy Sundays

Almost every Sunday since I arrived at Galveston rain has poured down. I had intended to join in the Unitarian fellowship on Sunday mornings, but have attended only once. When rain is dimpling the canal and pelting the windows I try to find my spiritual connection in my head.

Yesterday was such a day, but toward evening the skies cleared and I took a short walk to stand by the bay, where I found a stunning sight.

It felt like church to me as I joined the egret and the loon in fellowship.