Yellow flowers and deep-colored bluebonnets poke up from the grasses under your feet, sand gets into your shoes. And everywhere, the sound of the surf. Loud and soft, it is constant. Crash, slide crash, slide. These sounds and sights are part of a language.
Nature is a protector, yes, but it is also a destroyer.
When you live in this kind of culture, it s just your life, he shrugs. People just start their lives over. They bury their dead, then they clean up and rebuild. To live on Grand Isle is to live in nature. Flowers and plants scent the air.