Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Of Bikes And Bums

Marilyn was at the Tropic taking her  ease as usual, even if it was five in the morning.
As Rusty and I wandered downtown we were not entirely alone as usual. Underneath the arches at La Concha, in front of Starbucks:
This guy sounded a bit like me when I'm not using my CPAP, reverberating from a  profound sleep. I stepped into the street to avoid any chance I might wake him. 
Self important roosters kept Rusty on my side of Duval as he doesn't much like chickens:
I thought they were arguing for a minute but they were just making a point. We exchanged good mornings as they walked by and one of them admired Rusty as he waited for me to catch up. 
You can see the effects of the recent rains. Summer has kicked in with clouds heat and humidity and random rain squalls.
The two guys had walked on ahead as I dawdled with my camera and Rusty dawdled with his nose.
I found bicycles streaming past me most unexpectedly.
I always look both ways at intersections whether I'm on foot or in a  car as bicycles come from all directions. 
They do it silently on Duval at six in the morning. And I catch a glimpse of them departing.
And, as the sun started to come up, a runner. There are usually flocks of them in winter when the energetic are among us. We went home to sleep, did Rusty and I.