It was another in the series of perfect days we have been having all this week in the Keys. So perfect one could ride a bicycle on the adjacent modern Highway One and not break out in too much of a sweat.
Homeward plods the weary angler....from Gray's Elegy in a country church-yard...
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
It seemed too lovely a day to waste it on making lunch, but I compelled myself to slave over a cold stove with my Labrador in eager attendance. She knows a soft touch when she sees me with food in hand.
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