Quick Trip to High Island

The cottage is timeless.
My father and brother fixing the tripod for a picture of all of us that should be on his (Grandpa's) blog soon.

I took a trip to High Island to see my parents and sisters who had come in to help with clean up after Hurricane Ike. My parents' friend Houston took us down the Boliver Penninsula that leads to the ferry to Galveston and it is all but wiped out. What struck me was the brown landscape because the storm surge of salt water killed all the vegetation. As you go over the rise from High Island to the gulf it changes from green to brown. It looks blighted, like a moonscape or a war zone. Power poles are leaning over or broken and only piers are left from the houses there. Cars are sunk in sand at crazy angles where they were abandoned because the water rose so quickly the people had to wade out ( just before you get to High Island where the road dips down and the water claimed it early). There are no more dune barriers. They were flung to the other side of the highway. Huge barrier tubes of sand are exposed like beached whales along the coastline. A few homes remain, but not many. Houston showed us a lot that was formerly listed for a million dollars. Probably worth next to nothing now without a town to go with it. Houston's father-in-law had a hardware store that was completely swept off its foundation and crushed. I didn't have the heart to take pictures like a gawking tourist. Your grandparents' home is fine since High Island lived up to its name and the sea did not claim it.