It is so cold and gray this morning that it’s hard to even think about leaving the couch, my book, and the cozy warmth of the 1940s era house in Galveston where we have hung our hats for the winter. So when Michael suggests an excursion to Moody Gardens Aquarium this morning, I’m a little less than enthusiastic. He reminds me that we did purchase an annual membership to Moody Gardens and that perhaps it is time we started using it. “Today would be a perfect day,” he says.

I’m not convinced and make no effort to move.

By early afternoon, the wind has died down, and the cold is less penetrating than the last three days; I reconsider the appeal of an adventure and soon we are in our car driving west.

Moody Gardens

Even though the weather is better, it is far from perfect, and I’m surprised at the number of cars in the Moody Gardens parking lot when we arrive. There are a lot, but not too many to keep us from getting a prime parking space close to the Aquarium.

Lidia the Seal

After climbing the stairs to the entrance and reaching a broad expanse of concrete we are greeted by Lidia the Seal. Made entirely of debris that has been washed ashore, Lidia is encrusted with small broken and unbroken pieces of too many things, and she sits on a pile of large discarded junk. Lidia is not pretty. She is tragic, and is just one of five sculptures scattered around the island to remind us that the oceans should not be used for dumping our unwanted refuse.

Lidia makes me sad. On second thought, maybe it’s thoughtless people that make me sad. The unappealing vision of Lidia the Seal is doing her job. She is a graphic reminder that we should all make an effort to be better.

The Moody Gardens Aquarium

Walking through the doors to the large almost deserted pyramid that houses the Moody Gardens Aquarium, if we didn’t know better, we would think we arrived on the wrong day. The only other person we see is a lone ticket taker standing beside a large opening where the underwater adventure begins.

Further along, and slightly hidden, stands a young woman watching us expectantly. As we pass her she asks, “Would you like your picture taken?” We smile, say no thank you, and walk on.

We find ourselves alone in this space between the lobby and the exhibits down dimly lit hallways when a young couple enters with two Pre-K kids in tow. The photographer barely gets her offer of a family photo out of her mouth before the four-year-old breaks away, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Fishies!!! Mommy, there are fishies!”

And indeed, there are. The fish swirl like a silver carousel around a large barnacle-encrusted artificial reef in a floor-to-ceiling 30,000-gallon cylindrical aquarium topped by a 23-foot scale model of an oil rig platform. But the tiny tots only care about the fish swimming high above their heads. They continue to squeal with wonder. Michael and I are both pretty fascinated, too.

Penguins – Lots and Lots of Penguins

Our first stop is the world of penguins, and there are myriads. Little ones. Big ones. Fat ones. Slow ones. Sleek ones. Fast ones. They hop and pop and plunk and dive and swim. We sit, watching. We are entertained and amazed. Michael is the first one to see a penguin pop up out of the water, landing feet first on a low, flat rock – or is it an artificial ice flow?

Michael urges me to see for myself this improbable feat of the seemingly clumsy arctic bird. I concentrate, watching closely. Waiting. But I look away for only a second, and I miss the acrobatic miracle of these chubby, benign little birds bursting from the icy water and then landing upright. I learn that penguins don’t fly. They hop. (I think they pop.) They are expert hoppers. And they are fast.

I read that seven different species and more than one hundred penguins live here in this artificial arctic world. They are fascinating enough to watch all day long; however, to my unpracticed eye, they all look alike – like penguins. I can’t tell one species from another.

Eventually, we leave this three-dimensional live movie and walk on, only to discover more penguins in a totally underwater world. Watching them catapult through the cold water, leaving a trail of bubbles behind, I am reminded of the Superman hero of my childhood – faster than a speeding bullet.

Flowers of the Sea

Winding our way down a long curving hallway, we reach the miracle of a live coral reef. Now I understand the lure of scuba diving. The reef before me is nothing less than a magical world. It is beautiful. Not only are the formations breathtaking – the sea creatures look like delicate flowers growing in a watery field. The brightly colored fish that call this reef their home entertain us. They dart here and there so quickly that it becomes a game trying to capture them on film.

The Intelligent Octopus

Concentrating our efforts on finding the jellies, we pass by a small aquarium with a crowd standing in front of it – a crowd being two employees and two guests. We wait to see what all the fuss is about and discover the topic of conversation is a bright orange octopus. A discussion ensues about the intelligence of this multi-armed creature. We’ve seen documentaries, but this is the most up close and personal we have ever been.

The way this citizen of the sea acts and moves, I feel he knows we are here, and wants very badly to penetrate his clear glass prison, exploring what is on the other side. I discover that he is a relatively new resident at the Moody Gardens Aquarium and is quite young. I hope he – perhaps she – learns to love his new home.

Gossamer Jellies

Until now, all the sea life we have seen have almost been manic in their pursuit of what appears to be playful activity – they just don’t stop! If being still were a requirement, they would all fail the course. But the jellies are another matter totally. They drift aimlessly. Boneless. Brainless. Heartless. Resilient. Older than the dinosaurs. Estimates are that this species of underwater life – that are 95% water – have been around for over 500 million years and will probably be around forever. They look as fragile as a spider’s delicate web, too ephemeral to last.

Stingrays and Sharks

We sit and watch wherever we can. Our views are unobstructed. The panorama before us is remarkable. Fascinating. Seals do underwater barrel rolls, looking like a speeding torpedo. Stingrays and sharks swim overhead as we sit in an underwater tunnel.

Sitting here, I silently thank Michael for getting me up off the couch. Looking at him, I say, “This is the best time to be here. The middle of the week when school is in session, and the weather is less than glorious. It is like having our very own private aquarium.”

Sometimes a yucky weather day is a good thing.

For information, click on the following link: Moody Gardens Aquarium

To learn more about Lidia the Seal click on the following link: WASHED ASHORE: ART TO SAVE THE SEA.