It was an odd moment, Cheyenne and I were back at the car but the forty minute walk had clearly not been enough. She looked wistfully down the road, somewhere we never go as the roadside looks pretty dull to me compared to the woodland trail we had just visited. She looked at me and turned to stare down the road, obviously keen to see what was round the corner. What the hell, I thought, if she wants more time walking she might as well get it. It must be incredibly frustrating to be a dog and not get to satisfy your curiosity day after day just because you can't speak the language.
The sky had promised not too much at all in the way of a fiery sunset but suddenly as we stomped down the road together the sky went red. almost as though a switch had been thrown in the sky, turning the clouds from "hazy yellow" to "apocalypse red."
Cheyenne usually trundles along with her nose to the ground sniffing everything up like a vacuum cleaner, but this time she just wanted to stretch her legs. Very unlike her. 
It was not the best possible sunset viewing location, but it just happened to be where we were.
And it went on and on and on. 
Looking back whence we had come it was just another early evening dusk. 
As we turned back to the car, Cheyenne finally agreeable to ending this "extra" walk,a couple of cars zoomed by their headlights feeble compared to the power of the setting sun. 
A meteor of sudden passing light. 
My own headlights were as the glow of a worm. 
My dog may not be able to speak but after years of not getting her way she knows how to make herself heard in her new life. Good job I know how to listen.
The sky had promised not too much at all in the way of a fiery sunset but suddenly as we stomped down the road together the sky went red. almost as though a switch had been thrown in the sky, turning the clouds from "hazy yellow" to "apocalypse red."
Cheyenne usually trundles along with her nose to the ground sniffing everything up like a vacuum cleaner, but this time she just wanted to stretch her legs. Very unlike her. 
It was not the best possible sunset viewing location, but it just happened to be where we were.
And it went on and on and on. 
Looking back whence we had come it was just another early evening dusk. 
As we turned back to the car, Cheyenne finally agreeable to ending this "extra" walk,a couple of cars zoomed by their headlights feeble compared to the power of the setting sun. 
A meteor of sudden passing light. 
My own headlights were as the glow of a worm. 
My dog may not be able to speak but after years of not getting her way she knows how to make herself heard in her new life. Good job I know how to listen. 
Keys center Academy is a special school, and it's designed to help young students who don't do well in the regular high school. Some people think the Academy is for underachievers or problem kids who get shunted off to the sidelines. In fact the girls who apply have to go through a rigorous interview process in which they convince the Academy bosses they really want to learn. If they get in, and only about two dozen qualify, they have to keep up their school work under the eagle eye of their instructors. The student/teacher ratio is so low (six to one on average I think) there is no way to avoid the work. My wife also instituted a no cell phone rule which has been amazingly successful.
At Thanksgiving mangoes puts on a spread to celebrate the achievements of these youngsters who without the supervision of the Academy would be left by the wayside of the general school educational system. The Academy also demands parental interest and that's a change for parents who think the schools should manage their kids without parental help. 
Community members like Wayne and Lucy also get involved volunteering, and the kids enjoy their day out:
Superintendent Joe Burke was seen yukking it up with program boss Carol, and as he's the man who keeps the Academy funded they are all happy to see him noticing their success.
When we were out cruising my wife and I used to enjoy the full moon on nights when we were out sailing as the unobstructed moon made the ocean almost as clear as day. But at anchor far from city lights the night sky would leap out filled with stars on nights when the moon was new or below the horizon. I enjoy walking out even now, at home on a dark moonless night to enjoy the stars in our street light-free neighborhood, but the full moon gives the endless mangroves a particular surreal quality.
I was off last Wednesday evening and I decided to take Cheyenne for a late walk on the south end of Big Pine Key. The idea was to catch the dying sun's rays in the trees, maybe capture some of the golden evening light that we get so often around here. However the plan fell short for a couple of reasons.
The first reason was the sun's decision to get close to the horizon behind a striation of cloud. And secondly I forgot to apply insect repellent as a result the sand fleas on the warm humid evening air made my life a living hell. I spent much of my time slapping my legs and scratching my arms, neither or which activity was effective in dissuading the irritants from bugging me.
Cheyenne's fur serves a purpose and she was just fine mooching about as usual. Lacking the rich glow of a golden sunset that I had been hoping for I started taking origami pictures of shaded trees and patches of sky.
Pelicans are back which means, flat water or no, it's winter.
And finally as we blew the joint the sunset put in an appearance. 
"Over sized load" indeed. These boats carry a lot of strange baggage with them. In Key West mention of power boats tends to evoke the same sort of reaction as Bike week gets. People that like engines and racing extol their virtue as one more form of tourist income. Opponents of noisy blue bottles dashing dementedly around the harbor ignore the wealth potential and wish them gone forever.
What they do is pretty much what's illustrated here:
I am no great sports fanatic but power boat racing seems crazy to me. Drive in a straight line one way then go back the other way. Enormous skill is involved I'm sure but really...so what? The whole business rather reminds me of the car race in On The Beach by Nevil Shute. The end of the world is closing in on Australia and in one last burst of fun they organize a car race to burn off the last of their hoarded gas. 
In a world where future energy supplies are a subject for debate (among some of us) the idea of burning fuel to do this seems weird. But there again, no more so than a lot of other human activities.
I turned my camera on the ramp where they launch these behemoths and found this guy looking for dinner.
Who won? I haven't got a clue.