The Port Isabel lighthouse is a pretty thing.

I looked up and imagined it welcoming old ships to new things.

I looked up again and readied myself for a climb.

First exit was an open-air landing some dozen feet from the very top. I tried to find the handful of our crew who stayed below at a picnic table, including my dear wife Karen. Their spot, smartly, was covered by a big shade tree.

I circled to soak it all in. The bridge over Laguna Madre stood out.

This was an interesting observational point.

I still had some climbing to reach the top. This was done on a straight-up ladder inside the lighthouse.

At this exit, I was surrounded by plexiglass.

I wonder why officials put this here but not just a dozen feet below.

The downward trip also had to be navigated carefully because of, well, momentum and other visitors coming up. Passing on the narrow steps was indeed precarious.

So near the water, we spotted palms and the usual resort places.

On my own while others got ice cream, I found a good version of what I’d nicknamed for this trip the elusive Salutin’ Sheriff cactus.

That made my terrific daughter Elisabeth smile.