March 23, 2017

Spring Break Galveston - Day 7

Hump Day - the time to return is upon us.  But I'm trying not to think about that.  There are a lot of things I'm trying not to think about on this trip...

Today was a nothing to do day.  So we did nothing.  All day.  And we enjoyed it.

Some observations: 
1) Doing nothing means different things to different people.  For teenagers it means watching YouTube.  For Dad, it means watching TV and observing people.  For Mom, it means writing.
2) Doing nothing includes doing something.
3) When you are doing nothing, you still have to eat.  We went to Jimmy's on the Pier and had hamburgers and fresh caught red snapper for lunch.  Shopped around a little in the gift shop.  And then went back to the house.
4) Doing nothing on a beach means that you can take a break from doing nothing and take a walk to look at things we don't see every day.  We found a mermaid, a proposal, three completely intact, tiny, swirly seashells and a bird mandible, a log spit from the sea with barnacles all over it that were still alive - for a little while longer anyway, several sand castles - one with a Lego on top, lots of birds, a few people, and one dog.

A final observation from this prairie girl.  Nature is loud on the beach.  To achieve quiet, you have to shut all your doors and windows and possibly even put on noise cancelling headphones.  It is, however, still peaceful.  I walk on the beach and my shoulders are relaxed.  I am at ease.  It's a peace that comes from having everything else - all manmade sounds - drowned out.  "Look at me!" nature says.  "I'm powerful!  I am a sight to behold!"  And you can do nothing else but stare and agree.  All thoughts in your head suspended but what is right there in front of you, below you, around you. 

Me.  I think I prefer the peace that lives where nature is subtle.  "Come and sit with me," the prairie says.  And you sit, just you and the cows.  And your thoughts wander until you notice that you are sitting by a wildflower.  Maybe it's purple.  And you think - "How did this get here?  This wildflower out in the middle of all this prairie?"  And then your ears hear the sound of grass blowing in the wind or the quiet call of a Bob White or the buzz of a bug, or the chirp of a frog.  And you settle.  You clear your mind of all distraction.  Because the details of the place that surrounds you are so breathtaking, so wonderful - you don't want to miss a single one.