Galveston

As the early gray light of morning crept under the door, a scurrying figure dumped ice into a red and white cooler. A second figure went through the check list making sure that sunscreen, bathing suits and boogie boards were wedged into the trunk tightly. A grunt, a groan and a scuffling and the cooler was heaved into the back of the car. Then a bright flash of light and three snuffling, sleepy eyed girls were bundled into the car, nightgowns flapped in the warm morning breeze.

Yes, the morning breeze was warm. Did I forget to tell that this taking place in Texas on Memorial Day Weekend? Sorry, it should be obvious, once that information is relayed that the breeze is warm and that the family is heading for the beach to cool off from the crackling heat that has been plaguing the Brazos Valley this year.

They made good time, and didn't have to stop until the outskirts of Houston, just a little over 90 minutes. Girls changed into suitable beach attire: shorts, tank-tops. Their excitement mounting. A couple cups of espresso, some donuts and a stack of lunchables because the spam musubi and sushi are sitting snuggly in the refrigerator.

Back in the car, air conditioner full blast, singing to Sir Oliver (all you 70's children should know about Agape Land), and Houston is easily bypassed. The Clear Lake, NASA and League City and the smell of the ocean is prevelant. The girls squeal as they cross the bridge to Galveston Island and the big ships are bobbing up and down in the bay.

They drive by Rainbow Row, a group of colorful historic homes, past the Bishop's Palace and the ocean suddenly spreads out before them. Park. Rent a cabana. Stewart Beach.

I think Stewart Beach functions as a verb by itself. It's like Waikiki. You don't need anything behind it to convey the entire meaning of the sentence. That single word will conjure up images of long stretches of white sand, waves lapping at the edge, children splashing and darting into the waves. An afternoon goes by before they reluctantly put everything back into the car. The children gratefully collapse into peaceful slumber until the water towers loom above them and they are safely home.