I have relatives in from out of town. Had, rather, as I dropped them off at Hobby Airport prior to finishing this post. What with a tropical thunder storm and a beautiful sunny day on the Gulf Coast, I think they experienced the full range of Houston-area weather.
Yesterday we drove down to Galveston. I visited briefly once, before we moved to Texas. I was able to explore a bit more this trip. Slowly I’m visiting more and more of my new State. Galveston is strongly associated with the pirate Jean Lafitte. This is of particular interest to me as he received a passing mention in my most recent novel, Silver and Bone. And — following the pirate train of thought — the first Cesar the Bravo story was published in Pirates and Swashbucklers Volume One. The tourist shops push pirate-themed t-shirts and souvenirs. So that was interesting.
Most of the trip, however, involved looking at old houses, enjoying a leisurely lunch, and sitting around while the HA burned a metric ton of energy at the Children’s Museum.
More Texas travel is in the offing, as I’m off to Cross Plains later this week for Howard Days. I suppose you can guess the topic for next week’s post. Until then, I’ll leave you with the next entry in Magnus Stoneslayer’s diary.
An inland sea is a world unto itself, dear diary. It is a world in miniature; it is the inverse of the greater world with its mighty land masses surrounded by all encircling ocean, it is instead a world encompassed by all encircling land, its land masses small islands or even smaller sea craft.
But that description is too limiting, dear diary. An inland sea is defined less by its waters and islands than it is by the peoples and character of the circumvallating countries. This sea – my sea – the Great Zajsan Sea, to give it is full name, to the north is capped by the easternmost extent of the Zantian Empire. Running southward down the western shores are petty city states, wild tracts, and marshlands harboring tribes of secretive fishermen. The south and east coastline provide sea access to a half dozen exotic, squabbling states. They trade, bicker, and war in a colorful confusion of languages, their seaports rich and riotous.
The Zajsan sea is, thus, a lively world, boisterous, eventful. Its trade lanes are bustling, its islands wreathed in mystery, its quiet stretches either fraught with unknown hazard or simply what they seem, its transiting inhabitants fearsome and adventurous. I consider myself fortunate, dear diary, to have this opportunity: a peripatetic savage from the far north and west afforded the chance to encounter so many new, fascinating people and rob them.