Nearly the last day in Galveston

Yesterday we took the ferry over to Bolivar Island.

Reminded me of the last time I took a ferry from mainland Mexico to Baja, a large, hulking ferry that listed to one side all the way across the Sea of Cortez. I felt transported back to the 1930's in our tiny cabin with quaint fixtures, in case we wanted to rest. The bunkbeds had these canvas curtains one could draw closed for privacy. Back then, we were eager to see whales wintering over.

The free ferry from Galveston to Bolivar Island was a model of tiny efficiency as we crossed this busy port's lane of barges and tugboats, followed by black-headed seagulls sparring for bread tossed by seasoned travellers. We were going birding.

And birds we did see. At first, just lots of seagulls, big ones all along the beach, with a few sandpipers skittering along the sand. But later, a little off the main road and very near the ferry in a rocky, oysterbed of a wetland, we saw white egrets, oystercatchers, brown pelicans, and a great blue heron or two. 

Then we spotted a roseate spoonbill working his way along the reeds on the far shore, his bill in constant motion. I don't think I knew how hard birds had to work to eat. 

Roseate Spoonbill, Bolivar Island (February 2015)

Not bad for nearly the last day. This morning, packing looms, with the usual frenzy of printing out boarding passes, for tomorrow we return home, rested, with new pictures to share and fond memories of Galveston. I will remember for a long time the sight of this beautiful pink bird lifting up to flight.