To say our month in Harlingen was a windy one would be a tad of an understatement. The wind sounds different here, being buffered by 200 year old pecan trees that surround our section of the campground. In the late afternoon instead of increasing in strength, the winds faded to a gentle breeze, allowing me to sit outside and read a magazine without having the wind rip the pages from my hands. In Harlingen we had to weight all of our plates, napkins and cups at happy hour to prevent them from being blown into the next county.
There is real grass here, not that brown straw-like stuff that crackles and crunches as you walk across it. A herd of more than fifty deer went running across the meadow the evening of our arrival, making us smile as we quickly lost count in their passing. Instead of sparrows, doves and grackles, I'm watching meadow larks, cardinals, sparrows, chickadees, cormorants and three different types of woodpeckers including that Woody Woodpecker of birds, the pileated woodpecker.
In Harlingen we were camped at a RV resort; a community of over 800 grass and concrete sites neatly lined up in rows along asphalt roadways surrounded by chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Here, the campsites have a gravel pad to park upon as well as gravel roads and we're parked backed up to the Colorado River.Monday night Denny and I ran into town and had the best meal we've had in weeks at a locally owned and operated restaurant, where the townspeople come in to sit and jaw for a while. They have kolaches here, although I'll make my own now that they are on my mind.
But the best part? I can sit outside at dusk without a heavy hoodie and watch the world go by without being beaten about and chilled by the never ending wind.
So what do I think of Columbus, Texas? I like it.