These are days of light southeast breezes blowing away all trace of humidity leaving fresh air and eighty degree days. The skies are a shade of blue known to poets as cerulean and of clouds there isn't one.
The shuttered homes of the snowbirds stand as mute testament to the silliness of owning expensive real estate here while choosing not to actually be here now!
Fantasy Fest is over though the hangover lingers on and Cheyenne and I get to walk the still empty streets.
Keep out! Keep out! For those too drunk to notice the signs mean nothing, for those of us too sober to ignore them, they deface lovely views and quiet corners with their garish colors all out of place.
I prefer the silly signs of Halloween which will soon come down I hope. Signs of closure at Jose's Cantina remain. The place that was opened in it's place briefly came and went and here we are still ready to try again.
Early snow birds? Maybe, because they are all helmeted and safe unlike cyclists who live in this crazy town. I too am odd in that I commute in helmet gloves jacket and boots. But not in tie dyed shirts. Never that.
Amanda in the BVI -Bassett's BVI wrote a post about Christmas colors in the tropics, and the half ripe date palm seems to include the requisite colors as she illustrated them.
I am not a fan of corporate Christmas which may perhaps explain why my attempt to capture the Christmas colors in this date palm failed. Here is another take on red and green:
In outline there isn't much difference between Cheyenne and a flying sheet- dark eyes grinning mouth and white fur. In flesh and blood there is quite a bit.
Not least in that my Labrador keeps dragging me to see new things.
All the time.
Ceaselessly. Can we have some dog stopping heat and humidity back please?
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