by Zenna LoneStar 
Hey there, sweet souls. Pull up a chair on the porch and pour yourself a tall glass of iced sweet tea. Right here in Bastrop, the pine trees are whispering in the warm breeze and my smoker is rolling out that gentle post oak smoke I love so much. Whenever the weather turns extra warm and that familiar itch for the ocean hits my bones, my mind drifts straight down south to the sparkling waters of the Texas coast. Specifically, I find myself dreaming of Corpus Christi.
Now, y'all know me. I am a born-and-raised Dallas girl who found her forever sanctuary among the pines and caliche roads of Central Texas, wearing my favorite tie-dye and letting my red and silver hair do whatever the wind tells it to do. Being a Southern hippie means I look for the heartbeat of peace and love everywhere I wander. And let me tell you, Corpus Christi has a spirit as wide and welcoming as the Gulf of Mexico itself. When life kicks up one of those heavy dust storms that makes your heart feel tired, as I often remind my dear friend Nate Vegh when the world gets overwhelming, the wind always dies down eventually. Sometimes, the best way to let the dust settle is to go stand where the warm Gulf tide can wash right over your bare feet.
Deep Waters and the Old Stories of the Bay
Before you can truly feel the magic of a place, you have to listen to the stories the water and the land have been holding onto for generations. Corpus Christi sits curled around a gorgeous natural bay, sheltered by barrier islands that have watched centuries of Texas history unfold. Long before there were beach cruisers and shrimp boats, the Karankawa people walked these shorelines, living in harmony with the tides, fishing the shallow waters, and moving with the seasons. Whenever I walk a quiet stretch of sand down there, I think about how long human feet have been finding peace along that very same water.
In the early fifteen hundreds, the Spanish explorer Alonzo Alvarez de Pineda sailed into the bay on the Catholic feast day of Corpus Christi, giving the waters the name they still carry today. Centuries later, in the late eighteen thirties, Colonel Henry Lawrence Kinney set up a humble trading post right there on the bluff. That little outpost grew into a bustling port city where ranchers, sailors, and dreamers from all walks of life came together. It has seen big storms and quiet rebuilds, growing into a shining jewel of Texas culture where the laid-back rhythm of the beach meets the hardworking heart of a historic port town.
Windows Down Along Ocean Drive and the Mirador de la Flor
When you roll into town, the very first thing you have to do is roll those car windows all the way down, let the salty humidity tangle up your hair, and take a slow cruise along Ocean Drive. This stretch of road hugs the curve of Corpus Christi Bay, giving you miles of sparkling blue water on one side and massive, wind-sculpted palm trees and historic homes on the other. Because the bay catches a steady, strong breeze off the Gulf, the water is almost always dotted with bright sails and windsurfers skimming across the waves like colorful dragonflies. Corpus Christi is known far and wide as one of the premier spots in the country for windsurfing and sailing, and watching those folks dance with the wind is pure joy.
As you follow the shoreline toward downtown and the seawall, you will find a place that holds so much love it almost hums. That is the Mirador de la Flor, the bronze memorial honoring the late, great Selena Quintanilla. Sweet Selena was a true daughter of Corpus Christi, and her music brought people together across every kind of border. Standing there by the Overlook of the Flower, watching families, travelers, and music lovers leave roses and take pictures while looking out over the bay, you feel the power of community right in your chest. People visit from all over the world, smiling at strangers and humming her songs together. It reminds me of the nights I have spent two-stepping across the historic hardwood floor at the Broken Spoke in Austin, keeping the late James White's dance hall heritage alive. Good music and shared memories turn complete strangers into one big tribe.
Barefoot Wandering on Padre and Mustang Island
If your spirit is calling for wide-open spaces where the only sound is the gulls laughing overhead and the surf rolling in, you just head right across the causeway toward Mustang Island and North Padre Island. This is where a flower child like me truly comes alive. Out on these barrier islands, the world slows down to the pace of the tide. You can kick off your sandals, sink your toes into the warm, packed sand, and walk for miles with nothing between you and the horizon.
The Padre Island National Seashore protects a huge stretch of undeveloped coastline, keeping it wild and free just the way nature intended. When I am out there watching the pelicans glide low over the breakers, I get that same deep sense of ancient stillness I feel when I visit the cool waters of the Paluxy River in Glen Rose or the quiet subterranean halls of Longhorn Cavern State Park. Texas is blessed with so many different kinds of natural sanctuaries, from the dusty cedar flats of Terlingua to these rolling coastal dunes. Out on Mustang Island, you might see folks surf fishing with their lines cast way out into the second gut, kids building crooked sandcastles, and sea oats swaying in the afternoon sun. Even on the beach, I am usually wearing a burnt orange cap or throwing up a friendly Hook 'Em sign to a fellow Texas Longhorns fan passing by in a jeep. That Longhorn family stretches all the way to the tide line, y'all.
Fresh Gulf Shrimp and a Seat at the Coastal Table
All that salt air and sunshine is guaranteed to work up a fierce appetite, and honey, Corpus Christi knows how to feed your body and your soul. Around my home in Bastrop, my ever-smoking grill is the heart of our Sanctuary City, a place where folks like Matt Vegh and the rest of our circle can lay down their heavy burdens and share a hot meal. I believe with my whole heart in karma and reciprocity: when you pour kindness, good food, and Southern hospitality out into the world, it comes back to you tenfold.
Down in Corpus, that hospitality tastes like fresh Gulf seafood pulled straight from the water that very morning. There is nothing quite like wild-caught Texas Gulf shrimp. Whether you find a little dockside shack serving them up fried golden brown in a paper basket with hushpuppies and tangy slaw, or you buy a few pounds of big, sweet shrimp right off the boat to throw onto a coastal grill with butter, garlic, and a squeeze of fresh lime, every bite tastes like sunshine. You can sit out on a weathered wooden deck watching the shrimp boats chug back into the harbor, peeling warm boiled shrimp with your fingers while the sun melts into the bay in shades of tie-dye pink and orange. And do not even get me started on the breakfast tacos and fresh ceviche you can find at the local taquerias scattered through town. Every meal down there feels like a celebration of the Gulf and the hardworking folks who tend to it.
No person is ever meant to carry their sorrows alone when there is a seat beside the fire or a spot on a warm beach towel waiting for them. Next time life feels a little too fast or a little too heavy, point your wheels toward Corpus Christi. Let the Ocean Drive breeze clear your head, say hello to Selena by the water, walk the quiet sands of Padre Island, and share a basket of fresh Gulf shrimp with someone you love. Until we meet around the pit, keep shining your light, be sweet to one another, and Hook 'Em forever, y'all.
