Sun

Last night, talking to a friend, I bemoaned the fact that the fog had left Galveston. During the first week we were here, our walks by the sea were nothing less than enchanting, and I miss the enchantment.

However, today we decide to take advantage of the sun and time of day by checking out the ship channel; it was a favorite pastime last year while staying in January. Unfortunately, when we were here recently at sunset, a mosquito invasion chased us away less than five minutes after we parked. Today we are earlier. The sun is high in the sky, and the merchant ships glow in the sunlight. Some are anchored. Some are coming onto port. Many others are on their way to other lands. Watching the world go by really is a lovely, relaxing pastime.

And there isn’t a mosquito in sight!

Fog

A bare fifteen minutes after we arrive, we look toward the wide Gulf and notice fog rolling in—heavy fog. It creeps slowly until the world before us is covered with a thick gray blanket.

Deciding it is pointless to sit here and look at nothing, we turn to leave. At least it’s not mosquitos that chase us away. On our way down the sandy weather-rutted road, we see an ocean liner coming toward us, making its way to warmer, sunnier ports.

As we drive, the inland fog thickens. I’m grateful we are on this road—not somewhere in the country—and that Michael sits in the driver’s seat. I also realize that driving in the fog is nerve wracking as opposed to the enchantment of walking in the swirling gray mist.