Sheila's Guests and Reviews

From heights to depths to river in-between, Bright colors bright sunshine dry and green, Did you miss me? This Texas is where I've been.

One of the highlights of our trip to Texas with our son was a visit to Fort Sam Houston. We drove round the outside of the fort one day and it was huge. Not huge like Texas, this was really, really, really huge. I could hardly believe as we crossed yet another intersection that the fence nearby was still the same boundary. But on another day, we really went inside. As we stopped at the gate to have our IDs checked, I found myself trying to remember if I still look like my drivers' license photo. I think there's more than a few extra gray hairs, but we all passed inspection anyway. Our son then drove us past a perfectly ordinary-looking gas station, and stopped on the parking lot of what looked, at least to me, like a regular Home Depot. Of course it wasn't, and I really shouldn't have been so surprised at the washing machine sale inside. Even army personnel have to wash their clothes. Another drive, along quiet roads, past wide intersections where the only sign that thi...

"Everything's bigger in Texas." That's what our server said when he brought my salad to the table. It was huge, and I had to leave room for the steak. But boy was it delicious! Road-bridges are bigger in Texas too. As we drove cross-country from California, we joked at the beautifully painted Arizona bridges. "Perhaps there'ss nothing else to look at." Then we started our approach to San Antonio and met a real Texan bridge. It wasn't just the pristine colors that impressed us, but the size and scope. Bridges over bridges over bridges. Lanes over lanes. In downtown San Antonio our son explained how you have to be careful to pick the right "height" when you drive. The next lane over might be fifty feet up in the air! And the exit may come from the top or bottom section of the road. Near the airport bridges spanned each other, lanes turning every way, and all of it shining bright in the Texan sun. Clean lines reflected in clean colors, it felt...

I think my preconceptions about Texas were fueled by childhood Westerns watched on TV. Heading out on the 10 from El Paso did nothing to shatter my illusions. There was lots of empty space and endless horizons. Lots of sand and dry ground, scrubby shrubs, cacti, and hills that promised canyons in shadowed depths. There were even a few cows on a ranch. But El Paso isn't San Antonio, and San Antonio is like a touch of Paris (and London and Blackpool and Italy and Spain), and already I miss it. Friends had mentioned the "River Walk" before we left, and I tried not to look too foolishly surprised that there might be a river there. But their descriptions really couldn't do it justice. (Likewise neither can mine.) The river, sunken down beneath bridges and streets, reminded me of Cambridge and punting on the Cam: or of Paris, strolling by the Seine; or even of pictures of Venice though I've never been there. Shadows dapple the banks, bright colors splash like paint refl...

I used to hear about, and read about, people doing serious road-trips, like crossing the United States from coast to coast. It sounded such fun, though of course, I never expected I'd get the chance to do it. Then our oldest son, recently graduated from medical school in Los Angeles, got ready for a move to Texas and invited us along. So, if you've been wondering why my blog's been so neglected and my comments so sparse (or non-existent) for the last week, that's where we've been. On Saturday we flew to Los Angeles and walked the beach and touched the sea. Then on Sunday we loaded the car with boxes and cases (people too) and set off. Buildings gave way to agriculture, to windfarms (quite a surprise), to desert and hills. I wanted to photograph every tall white cactus at the start, but soon I realized they weren't going to go away. Then I watched the scrubby bushes grow shorter and sparser as the land grew more dry. Breakfast in Los Angeles, lunch in Phoenix, di...