With my work day (night) starting in six hours I have plenty of time to get out into Nature with my dog. When the midday walk at the beach gets too hot for a girl, Cheyenne plunks herself down in the salt and seaweed and takes a break.We are not supposed to worry about oil in the gulf reaching these shores as the government has discovered there are wonderful secret microbes eating the oil as fast as it spilled. Good job I say. So instead we live with dead seaweed washing on the Keys modest beaches. As it rots and dries in the sun it smells like a herd of cows just pissed here. You know I'm not kidding as this is not in fact the tourism development website for the Lower Keys. If you are a commercial fisherman and you have surplus or broken equipment the best way to dispose of it is to toss it overboard. It is my belief that the fastest way to get trash out of the oceans is to abolish commercial fishing. As that will never happen until the last living creature in the water is extinct I have chosen to live with trashed beaches and enjoy the variety the trash brings to an other wise dull natural scene. This is the spot to come if you need some old plastic rope. It's free!
And buckets are easily available. I thought this was a proper square grouper for a moment. Be still my beating heart! It was just a home made float or fender, polystyrene wrapped in decaying cotton. I have never found anything remotely illegal in all my walks. My purity of heart precedes me.
Someone else believes trash can be Art. Cheyenne likes walking here lately even more than I do. We get cooling sea breezes and there is a shady, sandy trail under the trees behind the beach itself. Off shore there are always people always busy buzzing about. On land we walk almost always alone. I did glimpse two people the other day crashing along the beach carrying big plastic bags. they were either collecting trash or stealing...sponges? Who knows.