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I shuddered as I watched the news report showing the

devastation left behind Hurricane Ike.

In April, just five months ago, Ed and I visited the Bolivar Peninsula

on the Gulf of Mexico.  We boondocked in

the parking lot of a church and later along a new road cut for access to an

oceanfront home.  We enjoyed several days

in High Island, Gilchrist, and Crystal Beach. We met people like Joe, a

commercial shrimp and crabber. We watched wildlife in their natural habitat.  I fell in love with a little blue house on

stilts.  Today, I wonder what happened to

Joe, his boats and yard full of chickens. I suspect the bird sanctuary is in

ruins. And, I wonder if that little blue house withstood the storm.

Ike devastated this area of Texas.  I read that the peninsula road is impassable

and rescue teams are using airboats to find the people who rode out this

Category II storm.  Photos of the towns show

the roofless houses of the lucky homeowners; for the less fortunate, the houses

are gone completely and only empty concrete slabs remain.

Traveling, as Ed and I have done, gives me a sense of people

and place.  It is heartbreaking to know

that what was once there may be gone forever.