Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Photo Safari

Cheyenne and I spent a happy couple of hours New Year's Eve in the woods of No Name Key. She rooted around and I amused myself with my camera, trying to notice what I frequently only see on my winter walks. Dead sea snails? Sure....everywhere.They tell us tin cans will last 500 years if dumped in the woods. I wonder of this car has been here fifty years and yet it has effectively disappeared back into mother earth:Buttonwood leaves are taking on the appearance of buckshot victims. Why I could not say:
Grass is rare in the Keys and when Labradors find some in the wild it's important not to waste it. Letting the sleeping dog lie, left me to fiddle with the camera to pass the time as I had forgotten to bring the newspaper with me. So I took pictures: Sea grape leaves:
I was passed on my walk by a securely helmeted cheerful cyclist, though what he had to be cheerful about with his body tightly bound in spandex I have no idea. The thing about winter is that it's the best time to get out in the woods, but it's also the time when all these other people are crowding out the islands. I mean I actually met one other person out here all afternoon. Grand Central Station isn't in it, I tell you, when it's winter in the Keys, one might as well be in the Big City. Sniff.
The palm frond jungle of No Name Key:
The weather was warm and slightly humid, classic pre-frontal conditions. Hereabouts, at 24.5 degrees North Latitude it is almost 80 degrees (27C) while in Canada and New England they are getting blasted by freezing weather that will arrive here in a few days and drop the temperature to below 60 degrees (15C). The precursors are winds shifting gradually to the south and west, increased humidity and wild cloud patterns rendering the skies hazy:
A by-product of these southern latitudes is that spring springs at the wrong time of year. Fresh leaves are appearing on my fruit trees and in the wild, wild colors are budding among the mangroves and buttonwoods:I didn't even bother to photograph the honeysuckle this time, there is just too much of it flowering everywhere. The bees sound drunk. Be patient, summer will return soon enough even Up North.