A Spectacular Sunrise

Happy Birthday to me. I am not, as my curmudgeonly nature would have it, particularly drawn to my birthday.  I treat it as a day like any other. 

I am amused from time to time at work when I ask for descriptions from eye witnesses to incidents around town. The interrogation runs through a  few salient features to enable officers to identify the person who is the object of the call, someone sleeping in public, acting bizarre or arguing or any number of activities that alert passersby to the need to call police. 

I find I am in the category of the elderly nowadays. And I know this because people are described to me every day as being old or at best older when they are possibly 55 or 60. Golly I think to myself. I am now old. Which is funny as I don't feel old. At 63 I am on the cusp of being high risk simply by virtue of age for coronavirus symptoms.

Old age doesn't seem that daunting to me as I can still do what I want to do, and even after my accident and all those broken bones I can still walk, bend, lift and climb without trouble. As befits an old man I can't do things fast but I can persist in doing them until they get done.

I suppose one should be grateful for the genetic lottery and I am for mine as I have reached an advanced age without, so far, any signs of illness that so often afflict people of my age group. No high blood pressure or diabetes or stuff like that.

Undoubtedly health is the thought uppermost in one's mind and I recall old people when I was a youngster mumbling very tediously about when you have your health you have everything. At age 20 I heard them but it didn't seem to be very relevant and 43 years ago it wasn't. It is now.

I have lived with Rusty for four and a half years now, which surprises me as the time has flown by and now I have to wonder if his life is half over already. Supposedly he was young when we got him so he may be 7or even a youthful 9 years old already... Birthdays are not always portents of good times.

 26 years of marriage is the other milestone and the van will put the last dozen or twenty to the test. I find it difficult to picture myself an invalid at 80 or something but I have no doubt I will be able to cope with whatever the fates have in store for me if I get to reach advanced old age. My time in the hospital taught me there is little to fear from physical deterioration. As long as the mind continues life can be managed and enjoyed, I found from my hospital bed. Experiences in life come in different forms and not being able to walk gives you a  new perspective, a different point of view. 

Until I lose my mobility I plan to keep moving, but aside from such gloomy thoughts I find the process of aging quite enjoyable. Things that used to seem urgent become less so and age does bring wisdom I find and with it the pleasure of my own company, a few select friends, and the time to read and think without the youthful pressures of external activity. I don't feel the need to justify myself or my choices and I have found especially  since my time in the hospital that I focus more on what matters to me.

In a way I suppose it is a form of selfishness but time is running out, most apparently so and with the time left a certain urgency manifests itself in my life. I am I fear impatient, always one of my many vices, and I would rather be done with this phase of my life and moving on with what comes next. I should be disappointed were fate to intervene to prevent me enjoying my retirement travel plans. I want to start now!

My friend Webb is closing in on 79 years of age and he hasn't wasted a minute of a life lived with an aim and a purpose. You don't sail around the world six times and set assorted records without making a plan. I never was quite that self assured to assume a single plan might work for me. My plans have come in small batches, planning a  trip a job and exit strategy, one thing at a time. 

I promised my wife twenty odd years ago we would get the pensions we had never planned for when we lived in Santa Cruz. She had agreed to sail to Key West and a new life in a  warmer more laid back location and I in turn said we would secure our old age. It was a good plan and we have stuck to it. Much to my own surprise I managed to hold down a long term job and not get lost in the pitiful world of office politics though I have been put through the office wringer over the years. That was a good plan and I tell her so now even though I wondered how I would do it in distant 2004 when I started working for the city of Key West.

Were I to be deprived by illness, pandemic, war or some other catastrophe of the chance to enjoy our planned retirement on the road in the van I would still count the past two decades a good use of time. I learned new skills and put them into practice. I lived mindfully and enjoyed most of the time living in a  special place with time to take vacations in other interesting locations. I've had the company of some excellent dogs too and Rusty is always worth being around. My wife has been patient and promises me more of the same as we start down the slippery slope to the final big sleep. 

Meanwhile I asked for some sushi cakes instead of a normal birthday cake in the manner of a last meal and Rusty no doubt will enjoy the day as shall I in the manner of any other day, last meal notwithstanding. I follow his imperturbable example.

Not Downtown

There is something about coronavirus that destroys variety in our lives. We are the lucky ones, or perhaps the smart ones on the edge of the infection, the ones who stay away from bars and crowds and beaches and indoor dining and protect our infirmities or old age by being cautious. We;ve been doing it for so long one has to make an effort to remember life before masks and hand sanitizer and locked office doors and socially distanced grocery shopping and deliberately planning how to avoid crossing paths with people and the sense of resentment when noses appear above masks or defiant looks accompany an uncovered face. 

I have to think back to times spent on Duval Street watching the swirl of people, since March 15th a sight pretty much unseen. I cannot complain as my health continues to be good but I do complain in my head, a first world complaint, the lamentation of the entitled and the weary. Being out in nature seemed a privilege, and now it seems a confinement. How messed up is that?

Dying a coronavirus death seems as ghastly as anything and people in under developed countries are dying unattended where hospitals can't cope. I cannot imagine being in an ICU in the first or the third world, a place where family members can't visit, where you live alone in a hospital bed and with a fever; a place where there isn't enough staff to look after you and those there are walking the wards live in exhaustion and fear of infecting themselves or their families.

I force myself to a life of repetition, of sameness, of avoidance, of transparency that leads to boredom. No theater, no restaurants, always ordering food to go when we order at all. Gone is the gym replaced by the fake bonhomie of exercise videos. All at home, which is no longer an inviting place to gather. Socially distanced invitations  now consist of spreading food on our ten foot picnic table and distance eating while talking like lawyers visiting their clients in prison. It is bizarre.

The outdoor spaces remain lovely but I am starting to tire of photographing the same places and though my problems are mild they impinge on my sense of being alive. I am lucky my workplace respects our needs and our health and our safety. I read about the Sheriff in Ocala who has banned face masks in his offices. Banned them. What a choice that would be for me with a  wife with no immune system. My office is cleaned and sanitized daily, doors are closed, masks are worn in the corridors and we all grumble because it is annoying but we aren't stupid like the Sheriff in Ocala. I am lucky where I work.

I feel like I am turning into my dog and that may not be that terribly awful. Rusty loves his routines, the sameness of his walks, the familiar excites him and the compensation for being away is made stronger when he returns to new smells and more of the sameness of before. Now he looks forward to seeing what he missed while on the road and he relaxers  when surrounded by the familiar. I need to learn to imitate his contentment. No, actually I fear learning to be content just like him; I want my human edge to stay sharp.

Rusty at home.

One more mangrove root, one more reflection,

My favorite tree, a survivor, close to under water at high high tides, blown this way and that by storms but still producing green leaves and a little shade at the corner of two trails. Trees are filled with infinite patience. I wonder if they would like to pull up roots and travel like me?

Another glorious morning. More of the same, day after day, till the end of our time.

Sunrise Over Water

Sunrise pictures taken on a  cloudy morning over Key West Bight, known to the salespeople as the Historic Seaport. I don't spend a lot of time trying to tell stories with sunrises and sunsets as people a lot more involved with selling Key West are busy doing that, but these I thought worth sharing.

Old Bahia Honda Alone

Photos are anecdotal inasmuch as I can take a picture any old time and make it look like the highway is jammed or empty. But believe me when I tell you I stopped on Niles Channel Bridge, forty feet above the water and took this picture absolutely alone on the highway for a mile behind me and half that in front. That's not a moment in time, that's the reality of roadblocks coming into the Keys and most people out of work.

 Arriving at Bahia Honda on a lovely morning and I was all alone. With Rusty. We walked alone.

I live near Venture Out, a residential trailer park on Cudjoe Key filled with dog owners who conscientiously walk their dogs at least twice a day and I applaud them for their diligence. (I played with photography filters to enhance the unnatural colors below).

However aside from the boredom of walking the same streets every single day I don't see the safety in numbers of  dodging a dozen dog walkers on the same street. 

Did I overdo this one? I post it here because this a page between friends not as an example of high photographic art. I see lots like this on Instagram but though I find it fun to push back the envelope of tedium closing in during the pandemic it's not my style to process pictures that hard. If you like it by all means copy and use it, as you can with any of my pictures.

 For some reason I was looking down while walking the beach, watching where I put my feet as I am always more careful than I used to be before my accident, and I found an ancient 20th century relic. I have to say I don't remember film photography with anything but irritation so holding this long lost automatic film canister in my hand did not bring back happy memories. I love digital.

 Rusty and the full moon that had everyone in ecstasy recently.

 I'll tell you what though, with all this full pink moon stuff going around I got some good tips to photograph the moon properly next time I am inclined.  If we are still locked down I'll be forced to give it a  go in a month. I also learned about Earthshine and photography. Honestly though I find photographing celestial bodies to be only marginally interesting in relation to what's underneath.  A horizon underneath the photographed moon might make it more interesting. Here's a yellowish moon:

Bird on a Stick alert. Turkey vulture giving me the stink eye. You know things are not going well when vultures look askance at you. I took the picture and reminded the bird that Rusty and I were both quite alive, just resting.

 I tell you, we were completely alone shortly after seven in the morning last Wednesday. Check out these pictures that need no captions. Oh by the weay the coronavirus stuff is still going on and businesses are still closed and you can't visit the Keys by car without a local ID. All that stays the same but the beauty is still here for us to enjoy.

Rusty found a hole and told me he wanted a rest.  Who was i to argue? We were still all alone. Sad but lovely.