Island Living

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I am on to some new travels away from the island but my heart will remain for sure. I will be back and I will always love Galveston Island. The place I made my first sand castle, first learned to swim, my first sting by a jellyfish, and the place I came back to as an adult. I have lived here for six years now and have planted my feet firmly in the sand since I was a tiny little sea urchin. I plan that I will spend many of my older days here and perhaps even settle to rest eventually.
Until then, I will share my island life and it’s many amazing moments.

There is true a magic here. Something about the moment you begin crossing over the causeway that makes you stop and recognize your breath…in…deeply…and out…slowly. Release. Release of everything you just came from. All traffic, all errands, all life, and the fast pace suddenly slows. You slow down. Your breath slows down, your step slows down. You run by a different time here. The locals call it island time. Give it a moment…you will understand.

It may not be the prettiest but once you have really explored it is so far from the ugliest little island you might ever possibly happen upon. The beauty is often in the raw here but don’t be blind…there is plenty of polish, too. The diamonds are there.

What do I love is hard to begin a list of, even for me. But there is the architecture. The history and story of each and every brick it seems. Even the land you stand on has a story of hurricanes and discovery, Natives and pirates, death and toll, thrive and wilt, gamble and crime, shadow and time. Love stories whisper from the tree’s, secrets from the graves, tears and even laughter from many walls.

There is a hum here. An energy even in the slow of your breath and stride. Feel it? Feel it.

Art flows from every crevice, paint stains many a hand and pant leg. Music can be found…it fades from time to time but then into some low lit door you’ve passed a million times and just now see it exists and you swear it wasn’t there before and the strum of guitar and song of bird will suddenly let you be aware. They will tell you their story. The story of ghosts past and your own, if you are ready to listen.

The coffeeshop here isn’t of people too busy or of minding their own business. No… sitting outside underneath the jasmine sweet you will suddenly have a chatty companion pull up a chair and just as suddenly…a new friend. A book of voice. Your afternoon complete.

Treasures glint of all colors and in all corners here. Peek inside a shop and be taken back in time. Stop. Listen….do you hear it?
Finger tips glide over greens and blues and all china, tiny fragile cups once sipped of by whom…someone of such another time. Another story.

The water is seen as brown in summer…our seaweed comes and creates an eco system that is extremely in itself to be explored. The river feeds our Gulf nearby but do not be fooled by that brown water that tells many many tourists go home…leave us be…shhh, and please keep the sands clean….no, she fools you well because in winters and falls the seasons of winter birds call she turns like a stone polished from a deep deep cave. She awakens into colors jeweled of greens and emeralds, blues, and as the sunsets the colors of inside a shell, when she meets her lover the sky, introduced by the setting sun. The colors……those beautiful colors.

The mermaids may even greet you one sunset evening day.
You will see. Shhh…wait….just wait. You will see.

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2 thoughts on “Island Living

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