Shifting Sand

December 20, 2021

Matagorda Beach is “our” beach.

Of the few we have visited it is the one on which we are most comfortable. It is not a touristy beach like those found on Galveston Island, nor is it a resort beach where one might find stereotypical sunbathers crowded together under their rented umbrellas sipping mixed drinks and working on their tans.

Matagorda Beach is more like a wild beach. The first few miles near the entrance are maintained to some degree, but the majority is left to nature. It is a popular place for swimming, fishing, shell hunting, and sunbathing. Every now and then it plays host to large beach parties. But regardless of the activity of the day, it is usually possible to find a secluded, private spot where one can enjoy the beauty without feeling crowded–if one is capable and willing to drive far enough.

The waves and tides constantly reshape the beach. It is a different place every time we visit, and often changes noticeably over the course of a few hours. We never quite know what we will see or experience.

We began this visit by driving under the pier and exploring the area behind the jetty. This is near the man-made channel of the Colorado River that parallels FM 2031.

Waves crashing over the jetty at Red Drum Point by Jetty Park.

The water that made it over the jetty created a wide, smooth area in the sand interspersed with tide pools. We found a few shells and a good amount of seaweed.

Sargassum
We’ve no idea what this is but found several like it along the beach.
Ripples in a large tide pool.

After exploring the tide pools behind the jetty, we drove northeast past Three Mile Cut and found a place to set up camp for the day.

This visit was particularly unusual for a couple of reasons. First, it was foggy all day despite the weather forecast showing otherwise. Secondly, and most unusual, there was sand EVERYWHERE. Yes, this is a beach, but normally there are large amounts of shells, including extensive shell beds, along the beach a short distance from the entrance. This time, however, everything was covered in sand, even a good way past Three Mile Cut. The sand was deep and soft, too, with only a single drivable path plowed through by the vehicles traveling up and down the beach. Because of this we did not travel as far as we typically do.

Waves sculpting the beach as the tide was starting to come in.

On a normal clear day one can see various disused platforms located off the coastline. On a very clear day, one can see all the way to the horizon. Today, however, the fog drastically limited visibility. We had neighbors a few hundred yards on either side of us, and sometimes they were completely obscured from sight. The fog created an eerie experience, where it seemed that nearly anything could be lurking just a short distance away in the waves–or maybe the world simply dropped away.

Even the dunes felt like the edge of the world.

Despite the enclosed feeling, though, the beach was very much alive. Fish were jumping, birds were hunting (except our friend, below, who slept the entire time we were there), and the usual human traffic continued to-and-fro along the single path through the sand.

This bird slept the entire time we were there. The only time I saw it move was when a noisy seagull came by.
A heron looking for dinner.
Bird tracks and a crab burrow.
Hominid track.
Portuguese man-o-war. No touchy touchy!

Sunrise and sunset are among the most spectacular times at the beach, in our opinion. Despite the clouds and fog, the sun managed to peek out for a few minutes in the late afternoon.

Another family was parked ahead and slightly to the right of center but was hidden in the fog.
Kristi commands the Sun to shine upon the domain!

We have been to Matagorda Beach in heavy fog before–it is not uncommon during the winter months. We have also seen it when storms and waves have hidden the shells. But we have never seen it quite as it was this time. I wonder what it will be like the next time we visit.

1 comment

Leave a Reply