I'm not complaining, really I'm not, but the rain and clouds we have been forced to live with are getting old. After all the big yellow blob on the National Hurricane Center map could soon turn orange and then red and then become a tropical something, whirling about and ruining lives. Instead the yellow fuzzy blob (low likelihood of becoming a tropical storm) stays as a blob and limits itself to dumping quantities of rain on the Keys. And making our skies dark and foreboding.
Rain is a passing phenomenon for the most part, a heavy downpour followed by sunny spells and blue skies, which makes it all bearable. However I decided after my second drenching to put my saddlebags back on the Bonneville owing to the fact that I need them to haul my waterproofs around with me. Which gives some idea of how insistent the rains have been. The old Chodzin Roofing art deco building on Eaton Street is now a moped rental agency but the original clock still shines bright on a dreary dark afternoon:
The other thing about rain in September, or October, is that it isn't particularly cold though temperatures might well drop to 75 degrees (24C) which feels cold to someone used to warmer temperatures.
Until I got my saddlebags out of the closet I found myself driving the Maxima much too much which did give me opportunities for photography from inside the car, looking out at the mess of traffic on North Roosevelt:
One thing I did discover from the frequent car trips, was that the long touted NPR station has finally been set up in Key West broadcasting a clear signal across the Lower Keys. WLRN in Miami had been operating a series of translators down the islands but they were a sketchy way to listen to Morning Edition and All Things Considered and they finally set up a subsidiary station in Key West at 91.5FM, which means my wife will have to subscribe. She has resisted because she always lost the signal in the Saddlebunch Keys on her way to and from work and that made her crazy. The fact we have a strong National Public radio signal doesn't make me want to commute by car....I'd rather get wet.
Water tends to puddle rather easily in Key West, even though the city has installed improved storm drains in many of the worst spots:
But not all fire plugs are boring old red things. I've been randomly photographing the plugs around town that have been doctored by some kids art program, like this one at Garrison Bight:
On the subject of odd things I spotted a chimney on a roof in old town. I would guess that in an average winter one might want heat in the house once or twice, possibly for a few days during a particularly cold spell. I suspect a brick chimney was a status symbol when the house was built eons ago. I know some weird people crank their air conditioning sometimes because they want a fire in the grate. I'd rather buy one of those ridiculous CDs that show a crackling fire. The owner of this chimney found a better use for it:
I take pleasure from time to time wandering under awnings and overhangs of which there are lots in the commercial areas of Old Town. This one is at Key West Aloe on Green Street,where someone else had already paused with a beer but couldn't quite get the empty into the trash can just feet away (public recycling bins, I hear you say? Are you crazy, this is Key West: we don't do no stinkin' recycling...):
Nearby I spotted what looked a little odd to me, a half wet tree trunk, even though it was raining fairly heavily only the upwind half of the tree was getting the moisture:
When I lived in places where rain was needed to keep crops growing people used to annoy the hell out of me by muttering how we "needed the rain..." I never needed the rain then and I certainly don't need it now. Well, I've plenty of water in my cistern at the moment at any rate. To keep the Florida Keys Aqueduct in business we need lots of rain in the Everglades and around Miami to keep the South Florida Aquifer well supplied. We do have shrubs and stuff and gardeners to keep nattering on about needing the rain and if its not that heavy a thickly wooded sidewalk can keep one dry:
A little patience under an overhanging bush and soon enough the sun comes out:
That's the paradox of life in the Keys, winter, the coldest months are the driest months generally which is an arrangement i can approve of, if it has to rain at all.
