When I was a teenager I saw a movie, The Innocents, so scary it made me reluctant to cross the dark quadrangle at school on my way to the dormitory after the showing. The black and white images of the story of demonic possession freaked me out to a degree I still recall toady at the ripe old age of 57, forty four years later. I was a member of a movie club at my boarding school and of all the films we watched that one remains in my memory.
It was around Dix yesterday morning when Cheyenne and I braved the 42 degree temperatures rendered even colder by a brisk north wind. Unlike my teenage self I was no longer scared by the gloom and the weird twisted trees...just intrigued by their shapes.
Trees like these aren't to be found in the Lower Keys.
And Spanish Moss, the material that yields the "horsehair" once used to stuff mattresses, is abundant on these live oak trees.
In summer they have wildlife talks in what is, in fact, a state park.
Cheyenne thrives in sub-70 degree weather.
Nothing to do with Key West, whence I shall return on Monday, but lovely nonetheless.