Sunday, December 17, 2017

Dusk

A cld winter walk at the beach, my wife and I, with Rusty, a week ago.

 The sun sets before six these days and by six it is dark.
 Rusty allowed me a quick picture while he waited for us to climb the hill.
 At these latitudes there is no prolonged dusk.
 Now it's light.
 Now it's night.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Death In The Pond

There is a development of townhomes alongside Eisenhower Drive that is massively landscaped. Part of the greenery consists of a retention pond of some sort, and it appears to be teeming with life.
Rusty was sniffing but he wasn't putting the egret off it's mission which was to terminate something with extreme prejudice.
 I just stood there an idle observer and I wonder when I reach the Pearly Gates and I am asked what I did when I observed injustice and I reply that Nature had to take it's course, that the answer will be good enough.  While lunch struggled to live in the bird's gullet Rusty and I ambled on as though nothing had happened.
I don't know if you have seen the photo of the starving polar bear, a photo propagated by National Geographic, but I cannot get the image out of my mind. The photographer did nothing and the easy answer to my feelings of helplessness and frustration are that nature takes it's course. Climate change will bring us more such horrors but standing idly by makes me queasy. Like the man throwing starfish back into the ocean on a tidal beach we can't make a difference for screwed up wilderness situations but still...
I distracted myself by wondering why we needed to beware the dog. It's people who make me feel much more inclined to be wary....
Such ruminations don't impress Rusty.

Friday, December 15, 2017

Hawk Missile Walk

After two consecutive days stopping off at the Hawk Missile site, that reic of the Cuban crisis, Rusty decided he had had enough. He likes variety does my dog and I lost my opportunity to sit in my Kermit Chair and read. At first he ran back and forth sniffing everything but like a clockwork toy he wound down and soon on the second day earlier this week he needed me to trail him around, like a child involving a parent in make believe exploration. Luckily I had my camera.
By the calendar we are running towards the end of the year, though for the year ends with my birthday on the last day of October when I usually take a reckoning  and before I got married I figured if I wasn't broke I was doing all right. Nowadays my birthday marks the end of my work year as my retirement date is now November 1st (2021 so I have  a ways to go). My desire to store memories of the Keys against the last years of my life revolves more around views of the places that matter to me rather than places that are celebrated by the culture created by Key West the drinking town.
The newspaper was reporting this week that the city commission has plans to spend millions of dollars here over the next few years creating playing fields where now there is a little rusty history and some hurricane-proof bushes. It is right and proper no doubt to create order and organization where there is none but I am  not yet over the loss of the wilderness that was Truman Waterfront before the news comes out that Little Hamaca is to be organized.
It is a place of storage and I was delighted to see Christmas ornaments unaccountably stuffed away on top of a storage container. A vast green pile of them. Five million dollars will buy vast spacious fields for the youth of the city. Three million, the more likely sum will bring in more restrained playing areas but the nature of the place will be transformed.
One thing I miss about life in the Keys (not snow) is the absence of the third perspective. It does get confining sometimes to live on land barely five feet tall at the highest point. So when Rusty ordered me out of my chair I climbed the the foot berm which was built to protect the missile launches from neighboring explosions. From up there one can see across the mangroves, almost like a valley from a mountain, only in this case Riviera Canal is visible in the distance.
Wandering around I found a hole in a street sign, possibly placed there by an errant bullet, such is the wild wilderness of this place and I turned it into a camera obscura for my camera digital. I was having lunch with a friend last Monday and we talked of Hurricane Irma for a bit. We reminisced about Georges in 1998 when his trailer was torn up. There was nothing else to do he said of the aftermath of the storm that tore up Stock Island and Big Coppitt, so we loaded a few boats and went camping on the beach at Boca Grande. That's a beach ten miles west of Key West, on the route to the Dry Tortugas for small draft boats. It seemed funny that, going camping after a hurricane before cleaning up or sitting around lamenting. Those were different days he said and I have to say we looked a bit glum thinking about the way things change. We are hurtling through change in the Keys right now and one wouldn't mind a little bit of a slow down.
Below I took a picture of the temporary air traffic control tower that has replaced the regular tower across the airport. It all seems rather elaborate for a temporary facility but it seems a bit unlikely a ground level tower in a  trailer can  replace a tower that looks like a tower at an airport. 
Hurricane Irma sure did do a number on us.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Beach Postcards

It was a morning to click the shutter so I did. 
 Turkey vultures at rest:
 In flight:
 Next to the old Bahia Honda Bridge:
 A schooner at anchor:

Fishermen. Usually they come from the mainland with camping gear and spend a damp night eyeing their bait. Not my idea of fun especially in the wrecked state of the area under the bridge, also said to be dangerous since Hurricane Irma tore the place up.

 The Bahia Honda State Park end of the bridge. I am steeling myself to visit Bahia Honda now it's re-re-opened. I can't imagine it will look very verdant. 


 I have no knowledge of butterflies but I did see this one and practiced some macro photography on it.  Either it was dead or it didn't mind.



Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Audubon House, From The Files

From August 2015 when I first posted this I figure the cold weather could be an inducement to look inwards. I didn't visit the Audubon (Geiger) House for years and I discovered 15 months ago what I was missing.


The Audubon House

I lived in Santa Cruz,  California for nearly twenty years and looking back I feel like I missed a lot of opportunities to see places and things that deserved my attention. I dare say my natural curiosity took me further afield than might otherwise have been the case but I still stumble across stories of  places and curiosities in the Golden State unknown to me. Here below we look out of the Audubon House in Key West at Clinton Square and the Customs House, now a fine museum.  
 In that time I made several efforts to live in Florida but my residence here never jelled. I would hand in my Florida driver's license and re-institute my California document, or vice versa as I tried living in Tampa and St Petersburg or Fort Myers or Key West and none of the visits to the land of sun and heat took very well. I always ended up back in the fog of California's Central Coast living through cold wet winters and long dry summers which never seemed long enough or hot enough to suit my taste. California residents thought I was crazy to want to live in the land of hurricanes alligators and mosquitoes but Florida for me was the land of eternal sunshine and right wing nutters and it remained as elusive as Ponce de Leon's Spring of Eternal Youth.
My best friend sailed to Key West and the little fishing village I had first visited in 1981 and found to be far too isolated became a likely prospect. I brought my wife and my dogs in a mad three week car trip and we sold my boat and bought an ocean going catamaran and made vague plans to sail to the Caribbean. We both wanted eternal summers, me and my California wife. We made road trips around California and I took motorcycle rides and still I felt I barely scraped the surface of all there was to see.  
In Florida we made a conscious decision to see everything we could want to see and that choice was made easy by virtue of the fact that we tried living in mainland Florida after we arrived in our sailboat. Mainland Florida was cheap but not cheerful and we yielded to the inevitable and settled in Key West, more than 500 miles from the Georgia state line, 800 miles from distant Pensacola. We were far from anywhere. We planned road trips and  we carried them out to see what we could. All this by way of introduction to explain why I have never previously visited the so called Audubon House, named for the painter of birds illustrated below, painted by John Syme in  1826:
The fact is he was a visitor for a short time before the Civil War and in his time in Key West he visited the Dry Tortugas and found birds to kill so he could paint them. It was a weird way to do the work of loving birds but that was what he did. He had an interesting life worth reading HERE but the fact is he was  a mere sideshow in this house that should more properly be known as the Geiger House.
In this picture, from the Audubon House website we see the man John Huling Geiger who had this house built and who lived in it with his wife twelve children and their slaves:
Image result for john huling geiger
He was of German descent and said to be  a pretty severe man who made his money by wrecking and by being the best at it. He spared no one and the gruesome tale of having a pregnant slave whipped is told by one of his descendants in the video on display in the house. His legacy is the Geiger plant named after him, as well one assumes of Geiger Key and this superb home on Whitehead Street restored in the 1950s and now one of the best old home museums I have seen, and I have seen a few.
The rooms are perfectly laid out with period accessories and  complemented by Audubon drawings and scraps from letters and diaries of the period. I found the house perfectly done and worth hours of your time. Why I resisted visiting this place I cannot say and it was a mistake not to check it out.
Check out this letter from 1849  describing the idle  idyll of daily life for the upper classes in Key West at the time. 


One has to assume that life in summer was a a bit of a burden for women who had no access to bikinis or sarongs or the lighter side of the wardrobe as enjoyed by modern women. 
Thanks to its  strategic position on the trade routes to and from the Gulf of Mexico, Key West was for a time one of the wealthiest cities in the US. The constant stream of ships brought news from the outside world as well as the latest fashions and exotic household gadgets and dry goods. People lived well here in the most salubrious climate in Florida. In those days only Key West and Indian Key were inhabited by white people in urban settlements. The other islands were barren and only occasionally inhabited by eccentrics, lonely farmers or fugitives. Mainland Florida was an impenetrable swamp filled with yellow fever, insects and rebellious Seminoles allied with runaway slaves. No one wanted to live in Florida. Key West offered all amenities and was thoroughly modern.
It must have been quite the life to have money and slaves and to live in such a place. What am I saying? It still is for those that can! The rest of us work...and it still isn't at all bad!
There are we are told some 28 original Audubon prints in the house's collection but the reproductions on display are as lively and lovely as they are difficult to photograph successfully.
 Outside there is a garden to enjoy after the house visit.
 Hammocks and shady verandas were much in evidence in the period.





The "tour" of the house is a brief introduction at the entrance by a docent and then you are cast loose to visit at will the home and the gardens. This time of year is excellent as there aren't nearly as many people as there would be in winter, as usual in Key West. Upstairs there is this video presentation by Richard de Aguero which is both informative and very funny. He lives in Miami and is a descendant of the great "Old Man" Geiger and he tells a great story or two about the goings on in the house. Well worth sitting down to watch.


I had a great time on the house and my hat is off to the curator Katia Dabdoub Hechema whose work is really extraordinary in bringing this place alive and I am told she isn't quite finished yet.
The outdoor kitchen was  a popular feature in the homes of wealthy Southerners and I've seen this concept many times elsewhere. Pity the poor slave cooking in this inferno.

 The link for the Audubon House is  HERE

Highly enjoyable way to spend a hot afternoon and see how the one percent lived a hundred and fifty years ago. Strongly recommended.