Restoration

Interesting experience yesterday. Many times in my life, I have used an escape to Galveston to "get out of Dodge", so to speak. It was about getting a complete change of scene, sitting or walking on the beach and stretching my vision out to the horizon, listening to the waves break and the wind whistle, taking pictures of the dunes, or whatever else struck my fancy. Ever since the destruction of Hurricane Ike in 2008, it had been very hard for me to imagine going back. I knew I would, but the timing would have to be right. Yesterday was a perfectly clear, bright, crisp, Texas autumn day, and with no pressing responsibilities hanging over (or, choosing to ignore those for the call of the ocean), I took off on the adventure.

First clue should have been the number of bikers out for a Saturday ride - in groups. Second clue should have been the sign on one of the clubs closer to the causeway saying "Welcome Bikers".
Third and final clue was riding the Bolivar Ferry with about 30 Harleys in each of the outside lanes, with all the riders dressed in leather, some sporting patches from having attended events all across America. And all having a blast in a non-threatening way.

This is what the Lonestar Rally looks like. Thousands upon thousands of motorbikes cruising along the seawall in Galveston, congregating in certain spots, motors alternately screaming, roaring, rumbling, and thundering. What an assault on the senses!

This is not exactly what I had expected, but it had its own strange merits. It was a distraction from what was the new vision of Galveston. Yes, there had been obvious incredible destruction and there was much that was still boarded up and quiet in comparison. Hotels closed and fenced off. Great piles of debris yet to be removed. Many of the majestic oaks along Broadway were gone or only stumps cut off at street level, and many of the rest were dying skeletons covered with mosses and tiny clusters of suffering leaves. Trees throughout the city looked like we were in the dead of winter. East Beach was totally reconfigured to the point where it was unrecognizable - left me wondering what it looks like when the tide is in.
However, there is also the sense of the beaches being swept clean by nature - a sort of re-birth out of the harshness. I guess that aspect may not be appreciated by those who prefer the more tourist-driven look, but perhaps, at least for awhile, it gives the island a chance to re-build keeping in mind the forces of nature. I have the feeling that the recovery in Galveston will look different from what existed before, and that does not have to be a totally evil thing. Just gives you one more memory to carry around in your head and heart, and a reminder to keep the same heart open to what good may be ahead.