A Brief Beach Respite

We arrived at our destination near the Gulf Coast and found we had about 4 hours until it was necessary to get ready for the event we were there to attend.  After checking into our hotel we decided to make a quick run to the beach.  After all, who can resist the temptation when you are as close as we were?  It was only a short distance to the small town of Matagorda, Texas, at the mouth of the Colorado River.

The highway runs along the banks of the Colorado which in reality has been confined to a dredged channel that makes its way in straight lines through the tidal flats behind the line of barrier islands that line the coast of Texas.  As we headed toward the shore, on our left was what appeared to be an unending landscape of water and grasses, wading birds and sand, while on our right were brightly colored houses on stilts with driveways full of boats on our side, or boats tied to docks on the water side which was to their rear.  The Colorado made a perfect highway for the marine traffic headed in and out of the Gulf.  There were all types of craft from shrimp trawlers to speed boats.

The estuarial flats to our left held many waterfowl of various types.  The large number of egrets and herons on their long legs, probing the mud with their pointed beaks is always interesting.  There were also occasional fishermen, mostly with small seines which they threw into the deeper pools in search of baitfish.

As we approached the end of the highway we could see a low line of barrier dunes with another line of colorful stilt-houses angling away to the north, while to the south, the river widened into the terminus of Matagorda Bay which stretched further to the southwest, its entrance being much further to our south at Port O'Conner.

Having only a small amount of time and not being dressed appropriately for the beach, we were contented to walk out on the public pier which jutted out into the gulf.  It ran long and straight across the dunes and out over the water for a couple of hundred yards, terminating in a stairway that led down to the artificial barrier which stretched even further as a protection against erosion of the beach to our south.

We stood for a good while near the end of the pier watching the fishermen occasionally reel in a bull red or a black drum from the surging waters.  The brown pelicans floated upon the water until drawn to sail along the crest of the incoming waves, riding unseen currents pushed ahead of the water as it swelled toward the wide sandy beaches.

The peacefulness of the incessant waves washing the sand and the cool ocean breeze was a calming respite difficult to leave.