(Feb 11-2012) My folks and I are having coffee at their place in rural Florida, looking at the neighbor’s cattle in the next field. With a wistful sigh I exhale that by this time next week we’ll be spying both cattle and coast over our morning coffee–and oil platforms and barges if we feel like it, too. I am full aware how lucky we are on Bolivar. My Yankee parents chose country fields over sand beaches, knowing it couldn’t be both. But I had the good sense to marry a Texan whose family has long, deep ties to East Texas, and the peninsula in particular.
“I wonder what’s going on at Crystal Beach,” says my dad. “Didn’t you say we’d be arriving for Mardi Gras? Get on the computer and let’s take a look.”
Now why hadn’t I thought of that? Held hostage at the office, I’ve often clicked on a Crystal Beach webcam to check out the waves.
We take a long look at the webcams and Crystal Beach Local News, clicking the links to see what’s going on and getting all excited about the Bolivar Mardi Gras parade festivities. “Never far from Crystal Beach,” he says, looking at my faraway stare. I smile. “Not close enough yet, Dad, but soon.” (Rene Gedaly)
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