This is the time of year when people Up North start thinking fondly of the next season they are to enjoy. Newspaper cartoonists draw pictures of children boarding school buses for the new school year, and trees shed leaves and cartoon neighbors leave their homes bent against autumnal winds with scarves flapping strongly behind them.
In Key West September is the heated month of the year, the time when the Earth gives back all the accumulated warmth of summer sun buried in the ground. Winds at these latitudes die down and the ocean waters go flat. Because we are temperate creatures we too start to think, to hope, that soon we may get relief and a cooling breeze. Intellectually we know that the first cold front that presages winter is weeks away, in mid October if we are lucky. Good manners and patience will get us through the slowest and hottest month of the year. Would that everyone made and used a sign as polite and pretty as this:
Meteorologists will tell you that August is statistically the hottest month of the year, longer days produce more sunshine and the rebounding heat of May, June and July produces higher temperatures. However I am here to say that September always seems warmer because one is more inclined to hope that the heat will end soon. Sometimes we think the world has reversed itself; we all know that Angela Street alongside the cemetery is one way outbound toward Frances. Not any more, nowadays the one way street is inbound toward Margaret. It's all signposted but I find the situation confusing because I am a creature of habit.
I need to make it clear that I don't much mind the heat of summer, a high of 95 degrees and high humidity is relatively comfortable for me, especially considering I work in air conditioning and my home is comfortably air conditioned. Lacking the a/c I wouldn't like it as much I'm sure. Cheyenne is a smart dog- she hunts shade this time of year.
September is also the time of year when parking is available, much of it in this picture is residential, that is to say parking that requires a Florida tag marked "Monroe" indicating a Monroe County resident, or a sticker from city hall authorizing residential parking. However it is an indicator that residents aren't clogging parking spots as they will in a few months when winter starts to bite Up North. A shady street is a good place for a walk.
This is a time of year when there aren't too many people around on the sidewalks, when vehicles come and go from time to time, when,as they say you could fire a cannon down Frances Street and not hit anyone. Cheyenne's pace is slow, for her her a trip to town is a chance to sniff new smells and check out the urban fascination of a somnolent town. For me it's a chance to fiddle with my camera and play with the exposures of the digital settings.
Or perhaps a chance to look up in the sky and see I don't know exactly what.
Banana trees are producing fruit, not yet ripe, but I have high hopes as a friend who has a tree can be persuaded this time of year to bring a few home grown bananas round.
I caught this Buddha contemplating an ash try turned upside down. I wondered if perhaps it was the statuette who was responsible for the cessation of the habit...
The disadvantage as I have frequently pointed out, of life in the city at the end of the road, is the lack of space available to residents around more modest dwellings. Be that as it may, creative spaces also abound. One of the pleasures of sub tropical living is the ability to enjoy the outdoors as an extension of the indoors year round.
Everywhere one turns in Key West people are doing clever things with the space and the stuff of daily living that falls to hand.
Mellow fruitfulness is the autumnal season I alluded to earlier, and even though it's not exactly mellow yet, the doves were fighting over berries on this bush.
By the time we reached Southard Street I felt that perhaps my dog had sufficient energy to walk back to the car and the cemetery without expiring. We stood under the awning of the old Haitian Art Gallery, now looking rather spiffy as some new gallery, and as we stood I looked across at Cafe Sole.
I find it encouraging to see people pedalling in the heat. Perhaps they have no choice as about one third of the city's 23,000 residents have no cars, These bicycles appeared to be the same models equipped the same way and likely for the use of the guests at the nearby Bottle Inn.
It looks just as one would imagine a guest house in Key West should look. There are so many of them, and I stay in none of them so I guess it's not surprising I had not previously noticed it, tucked away under it's canopy of leaves.
Cheyenne had other things on her mind.
Sometimes my dog thinks too much. When she senses a walk is coming to an end she seems to sniff harder and further as though to take advantage of every last moment. She sometimes seems to forget her life has changed and walks are now a twice daily occurrence.
This is a time of year when there aren't too many people around on the sidewalks, when vehicles come and go from time to time, when,as they say you could fire a cannon down Frances Street and not hit anyone. Cheyenne's pace is slow, for her her a trip to town is a chance to sniff new smells and check out the urban fascination of a somnolent town. For me it's a chance to fiddle with my camera and play with the exposures of the digital settings.
6 comments:
I stayed at the Bottle Inn a few summers ago. It's a cut above the average KW guest house with clean, well appointed rooms. It's not close to Duval, which I consider a plus, but others don't like the hike. I'm not surprised you have never noticed it. The first time I stayed there, I drove by two or three times before I realized where it was.
A Cheyenne query.
Does your dog get her share of attention from you and your wife? And, how about passers by? Say you have her on a lead and she sees somebody. Des she look at them with some disdain or does she sniff them and allow them to pat her head?
Is she a dog who likes her tummy rubbed?
Is she vocal whn unhappy or disturbed or does she let others talk to her.
Just asking. In the photos she seems to do her ownw thing without any attenetion from eitherother dogs or even, people.
Dear Mr. Bryce:
Why would you address your inquiry to "him," when I am fully capable of responding myself? "Michael" is under the impression I live for these ghastly walks over pavement as hot as a waffle iron, for the rare opportunity to sniff deceased fish and birds, while drinking from malarial scum holes. Meanwhile, "Layne" offers me nice fat slices of liverwurst or cheese, while occasionally escorting down to the patch of greenery reserved for my recommendations to Democratic leadership.
Mad dogs and English expats run around in the noonday sun. Do I look mad to you? Futhermore, Layne does not wear those pink shoes.
In Key West, people fall into two categories: the kooks who live here, and the tourists who do not. Quite frankly, I get more out of sniffing dead fish. All dogs like having their tunny's rubbed, unless they are at a taxidermist's. Do you have a cat?
Sincerely,
Cheyenne
To: Conchscooter
From: Jack • reep • Toad
En: Memorandum
France Rambling sounds like the name of a cheap pulp writer. But I like the sound of it so much, I shall steal it as my own.
This is quite a sentence: "...the time when the Earth gives back all the accumulated warmth of summer sun buried in the ground." It has even more impact translated into Swedish. I hope they use it in the script for the American version of the "Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" movie.
You're getting very artsy-fartsy in your dotage. The shot of the Adirondack-style chairs (through the picket fence) and the hanging bottles (as viewed through an irregular hole in a gate) were far more artistic than your usual offerings (such as a dog forced to drink from a malarial scum source). I also like the fleeti g nature shot, titled "Dove Eating Poison Berries."
I was hoping to find another shot called. "Half Naked Hot Asses on A Beach," but these do seem beyond you.
Did you know that the majority of dogs are Republicans, while most parrots are Democrats?
Thank you all for reading my blog.
Just a note.
Todays offerings and commentary are all by one Jack riepe of East Arsehole, Pennsylvania.
Cheyenne and I were at the beach today drinking malarial water while the Toad of Lesser Bonking, New Jersey, hacked into my blog.
Apologies all round.
Normal service resumes tomorrow.
Dear Sir:
East Arsehole will welcome with open arms in about a month.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
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