Ambling along Flagler Avenue just about opposite Sixth Street I came across a stretch of hurricane fence equipped with, of all things, trash, recycling and doggy bags! Must be a park!
The unkempt grassy patch was separated from it's suburban neighbors by a sturdy wooden fence.
Cheyenne checked the fence line, found it secure and decided she'd seen enough.
Actually there wasn't much to see.
A project abandoned perhaps?
A project completed yet whose purpose is unclear:
My dog is a patient friend, and indulges my need to poke around looking at stuff not worth looking at.
Apparently the Key West Women's Club has forgotten it created this little open space in the name of a past president. That's what the worn out sign dangling up front said.
I wonder how Nancy Jameson might feel having this as a monument to her stewardship of the club for ladies who lunch but do not, apparently, do much gardening.
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