If ever one doubted that electricty powers the Keys all one has to do is check the power lines inflicted in every panoramic picture. My photos are not photo-shopped, this is a diary, not artwork.The moon is past full but still able to compete with the sun at dawn. Henry Flagler's old bridges are hundred of years old and the cement arches are as strong as ever and completely ignored unless the bridge has been turned into a fishing pier.The big white pipe alongside the new bridge transports water from the depleted South Florida Aquifer to Key West.These pictures are of Kemp Channel after the man who got the turtle named for him who is buried in Key West cemetery. Kemp's Ridley is it's English name and what Ridley has to do with it no one knows. True story. This picture looks east at Summerland Key.There is a bit of a tide flowing which is revealed by the ripples on the water.Looking west at Cudjoe Key. This picture would be perfect with a few large lumps of tar and an oily sheen on the water. Give it time...Mangrove islands floating past my commute.
This is the view north from the bridge, where I will be walking Cheyenne in about ten minutes.My wife is upstairs sawing logs. Cheyenne is ready to get in the car and go smell a mangrove.
The last two hours at work are usually quieter as the bars have closed on Duval Street and officers are report writing and we dispatchers are ready to get out of our chairs and go home. I like my commute, I enjoy the views and I look forward to sliding between the sheets and sawing up my own logs. But getting this sort of greeting beats it all. Work is truly done for the day when her nose is in my face.