I recently took a road trip to the southern part of Texas. Padre Island, as well as a little fishing village 45 minutes inland, called Arroyo City. I plan on sharing excerpts from my journal, and photos of that trip over the next several weeks. If you have never been to this part of the country, I think it is worth the journey. Beauty can always be found, even in well-known tourist areas. I hope you enjoy the scenery.
I stand, calf-deep in her effervescent licks, the sand beneath me shifts as my feet sink and water tears around me. She circles my ankles in eddies of swirling sand and microscopic sea life. Tiny clams move and swell the floor below- their little shells burrow, hide, seek. She waves gently, opening the morning surf in quiet, undulating grace. It is a repeat of childhood: a friend urges me to go further out, and I stand, looking down, watching the water rush back out. I venture deeper; a silent prayer. It’s as if I’ve just removed my roller skates, legs wobbly and unsure. I breathe in; the coastal air stutters into my lungs, thick with salt. The sea, she is ominous, proud, virulent. She keeps me in want and cautions me in waves.