I am feeling rather bummed that this year my blog is making way for the rather nice new site that will be operational, I hope, in a few days and that will take over from this space entirely on January First. As a result I am missing out on photographing Christmas lights around town. here is a replay of last year's selection (and my wife's foot is fully healed by now). Next year I expect Chuck and I will feature lots of Christmas lights on TheKeyWestLocal.com
My wife gave herself a stress fracture in her foot in time for Christmas, but luckily she's a Jew who has only the faintest understanding of the Christmas story, but she understands pain quite well so we drove off to Marathon to meet a human skeleton celebrating the season. I have previously photographed Ted, Dr Collin's human bone model but this time it was a matter of whimsy.
When I asked the orthopedist who decorated his skeleton he looked at it in amazement and said "Oh, really? I never noticed" to howls of abuse from his office staff who took the time to make his offices look nice. Ted Collins is actually quite a decent guy and gave my wife a couple of prescriptions and an admonishment to take it easy for three weeks. No chance.
My wife's health insurance through the school district kept the charge down to an entirely bearable $20 and we exchanged a few thoughts about motorcycling with his very keen office person (and rider). We left the office with our hearts still beating though in one sense we did check out properly.
And so to the proper seasonal pictures for this time of year. Staples Avenue off 12th Street came well equipped with fantastic arrays of light and color and whimsy. 
I don't suppose one can ever have enough of this though what the banner referred to directly I couldn't say. And it did seem a little indelicate to ask. I'm off talking to people too much these days when I have my camera in hand.
Christmas is wreaths and holly and red ribbons, it matters not your latitude. 
Chuck and Wayne and Cheyenne came along, my wife with her foot stayed in the car.
This photograph illustrates exactly why Labradors should come in yellow not black (or chocolate). Nice eyes though and he was cheery enough that Cheyenne got jealous.
It would be wrong of me to suggest that were a Triumph Speed Triple to turn up under the Christmas Tree I would be annoyed, but I really don't think 125 horsepower would improve my quality of life too much. And my wife would get seriously annoyed at the tickets I would get. Nevertheless it did look quite festive all in green, unlike the rather nice Yamaha Fazer in the background.
These people are serious about their decorations.
This one was across from 12th Street on Flagler Avenue.
Reindeer and snowmen, I prefer the illuminated palm trunks.
I hope this is as close to a snowflake as I ever get to see for a very long time.
After all the New Town festivity we repaired to Southard Street on our way to the Tropic Theater for a night of French cinema and the adulterous exploits of Mademoiselle Chambon. On the way we took in some more lights.
Under the fullish moon, of which more anon.
This extravagance, a snowman rowing was part of a larger extravagance that illuminated a whole corner of Southard Street.
The house was quite a show and attracted walkers just like us, dogs and all.
There was a very aggravating sign in front of the house announcing it had won second prize for it's magnificent decorations. "So who won first?" Wayne asked the night sky plaintively. No answer was forthcoming. Personally I'm not sure competitive decorating is a sport in the proper spirit of Christmas, but not much is in the end.
On the front of the guest house another Santa was fishing next to a sign wishing us a happy keysmas.
A car came down the street and I pulled over to let them by. Instead they blocked me and took their sweet bloody time admiring the decorations. I should have gone ballistic but the movie wasn't starting for twenty minutes and well...Christmas...spirit...and all that. Bah humbug.
But beyond all matters mythical the moon was full this past week and very splendid it was too.
Wayne and Chuck had talked about being up between two am and three am to watch the full lunar eclipse, the first such on the winter solstice since the seventeenth century. Something like that. Anyway I was, to my shame, pretty much not that interested in the whole two ante-meridien project, a time when I like to be sound asleep when I'm not working. Then the Fates took a hand and wouldn't you know it I woke up needing to pee at 2:17 am. Not one to fight destiny I wandered out into the freezing cold night and there it was, a gradually fading moon. My gorillapod to balance the camera was not to hand but of course I had to give it my best shot, by hand, as though to prove I was there if nothing else. And so I was.
My wife watched for a while but it was cold out there on the deck, less than 60 degrees (15 C) which for us is cold. I left the red moon to do it's thing as the white crescent grew slowly back. Three o'clock in the morning is a very antisocial hour for an eclipse in my opinion.
When I asked the orthopedist who decorated his skeleton he looked at it in amazement and said "Oh, really? I never noticed" to howls of abuse from his office staff who took the time to make his offices look nice. Ted Collins is actually quite a decent guy and gave my wife a couple of prescriptions and an admonishment to take it easy for three weeks. No chance.My wife's health insurance through the school district kept the charge down to an entirely bearable $20 and we exchanged a few thoughts about motorcycling with his very keen office person (and rider). We left the office with our hearts still beating though in one sense we did check out properly.And so to the proper seasonal pictures for this time of year. Staples Avenue off 12th Street came well equipped with fantastic arrays of light and color and whimsy. 
I don't suppose one can ever have enough of this though what the banner referred to directly I couldn't say. And it did seem a little indelicate to ask. I'm off talking to people too much these days when I have my camera in hand.
Christmas is wreaths and holly and red ribbons, it matters not your latitude. 
Chuck and Wayne and Cheyenne came along, my wife with her foot stayed in the car.
This photograph illustrates exactly why Labradors should come in yellow not black (or chocolate). Nice eyes though and he was cheery enough that Cheyenne got jealous.
It would be wrong of me to suggest that were a Triumph Speed Triple to turn up under the Christmas Tree I would be annoyed, but I really don't think 125 horsepower would improve my quality of life too much. And my wife would get seriously annoyed at the tickets I would get. Nevertheless it did look quite festive all in green, unlike the rather nice Yamaha Fazer in the background.
These people are serious about their decorations.
This one was across from 12th Street on Flagler Avenue.
Reindeer and snowmen, I prefer the illuminated palm trunks.
I hope this is as close to a snowflake as I ever get to see for a very long time.
After all the New Town festivity we repaired to Southard Street on our way to the Tropic Theater for a night of French cinema and the adulterous exploits of Mademoiselle Chambon. On the way we took in some more lights.
Under the fullish moon, of which more anon.
This extravagance, a snowman rowing was part of a larger extravagance that illuminated a whole corner of Southard Street.
The house was quite a show and attracted walkers just like us, dogs and all.
There was a very aggravating sign in front of the house announcing it had won second prize for it's magnificent decorations. "So who won first?" Wayne asked the night sky plaintively. No answer was forthcoming. Personally I'm not sure competitive decorating is a sport in the proper spirit of Christmas, but not much is in the end.
On the front of the guest house another Santa was fishing next to a sign wishing us a happy keysmas.
A car came down the street and I pulled over to let them by. Instead they blocked me and took their sweet bloody time admiring the decorations. I should have gone ballistic but the movie wasn't starting for twenty minutes and well...Christmas...spirit...and all that. Bah humbug.
But beyond all matters mythical the moon was full this past week and very splendid it was too.Wayne and Chuck had talked about being up between two am and three am to watch the full lunar eclipse, the first such on the winter solstice since the seventeenth century. Something like that. Anyway I was, to my shame, pretty much not that interested in the whole two ante-meridien project, a time when I like to be sound asleep when I'm not working. Then the Fates took a hand and wouldn't you know it I woke up needing to pee at 2:17 am. Not one to fight destiny I wandered out into the freezing cold night and there it was, a gradually fading moon. My gorillapod to balance the camera was not to hand but of course I had to give it my best shot, by hand, as though to prove I was there if nothing else. And so I was.My wife watched for a while but it was cold out there on the deck, less than 60 degrees (15 C) which for us is cold. I left the red moon to do it's thing as the white crescent grew slowly back. Three o'clock in the morning is a very antisocial hour for an eclipse in my opinion. 
I stop by here for the stories (not the pictures...).
Any used bookstore that has a decent proportion of the famous orange spines of Penguin editions can't be all bad in my prejudiced opinion.
Er, I took this picture to illustrate the broadness of my photography, not my mind (on top of all my other mental issues I am not hoping for better in any unlikely next life). I know I'm a philistine but I can't help it. Just be reassured if you come to Key West and want to get up to speed on the afterlife there is a section devoted to it in the booth behind the nudie magazines.
Silly me, I did! 
They were having a sale on comic books. Need I point out this is not my cup of tea? I told you I was a bore.
If it ain't Tintin I don't care. They sell normal magazines by the rack load too. I'm sorry to say my illiterate dog likes books with pictures. Her former owners have much to answer for.
When the original seven mile bridge was under construction at the beginning of the 20th century it was viewed by many as an engineering feat on the same order of amazement as the "Eighth Wonder of the World" which at that time was the construction of the Panama Canal, less beautiful perhaps than the Hanging Gardens of Babylon but decidedly more useful in the Industrial Age. The original bridge seen here from the new bridge, shows off the cement columns built around 1910 and still as solid as ever.
The new bridge was built in 1982 and opened to traffic much to the relief of the claustrophobic drivers of the Lower Keys. The new bridge is little more than a normal two lane highway when you drive on it: 
Of course its a bit wet on either side and the scenery is quite spectacular:
The old bridge was quite narrow as can be seen today as it is still open at each end for pedestrians for use as a fishing bridge. This is the section of old bridge at the southern/western end, towards Big Pine Key and it's has been gussied up with cement barriers and trash cans:
The northern/eastern end of the old bridge, the Marathon end, is still in use as a roadway for the trolley to Pigeon Key. That's an excursion I wrote about elsewhere and i snagged a couple of pictures for this essay. 
When the railroad was converted to a highway by the state of Florida in 1938 (thanks Works Progress Administration!) the state laid metal sheets across the rail bed, asphalted it and welded the rails as barriers, which are still there. Pigeon Key was a half way spot where rail workers were originally housed and is now a private park open to the public:
The new bridge has a 70-foot hump three miles out from Marathon, which allows tall boats to go from the Gulf of Mexico to the Straits of Florida through Moser Channel.
And the hump gives a nice view towards Marathon to the east/north (the road actually goes east but its labelled as "northbound"):
Or west and south towards Big Pine Key, more or less:
The top of the bridge is marked on the south side by the blue apparatus of the Florida Keys Acqueduct Authority ( the main water pipe to Key West runs alongside Highway One):
In the distance you can see the incredible shades of colors created by the shallows surrounding Moser Channel as it spills out into the Straits of Florida.
On March 2nd 1981 an aqueduct truck carrying a backhoe accidentally hit and detonated the propane bottle that supplied the bridge tender's quarters on the old lift bridge on the old span:
The 39 year old bridge tender died in the explosion and the Lower keys reverted to their island status for a period of several weeks. An old timer I talked to about the incident said it was a difficult time in Key West when everything had to be emergency airlifted or barged into the city. They fixed the bridge to take cars once again but the lifting portion never returned, as the new bridge was opened the next year to much fanfare.
The speed limit is clearly marked though many people, visitors obviously, slow down to take in the views. Its perfectly legal to pass as long as you don't pass where the double yellow lines are solid. I have seen Highway Patrol cars pull a U-turn on the bridge to chase down and stop particularly egregious speeders. And speaking of views, they are quite spectacular, and I try not to get jaded or judgemental when out of state tags are crawling along at 40 miles per hour (The legal minimum for the bridge):
That last picture shows two small islands off the southern end of the bridge, lying on the south side. They are called spoil islands because they were created by Flagler's engineers who heaped up the "spoil" as the dredgings were called. In fact all along the highway you will find deep water up close to the roadway where channels were cut so the dirt could be used to buttress the causeway. 
Perhaps it was a lack of mosquito repellent, or the hazy nature of the day, but I found the island to be rather gloomy and unappealing. Though the view of the bridges was rather nice:
It's actually much easier and faster to get to the Seven Mile Bridge from my house by Triumph Bonneville than by bouncing 14-foot center console. The islands were the spoil material dug out of the ground by Flagler's workers when they built the foundations for the cement pillars of the original bridge.
In fact I had been considering an essay on the bridge for some time, but to do it the way I wanted to wasn't possible during the winter (I tried a couple of times), but traffic was always just too heavy. This time of year there are fewer cars on the Highway so what I did was I waited at the southern end of the bridge for cars to go by and when I saw no vehicles approaching I chased the back of the line onto the bridge (the black SUV in the pictures above), so that by the time I got to the hump I could stop and take the pictures while stationary. I don't recommend stopping as vehicles barrel down on you surprisingly fast and you have NOWHERE to go. Caveat photographer. 
