The Hole In The Wall Gang

Bandits have taken over Key West. He was a blur in the distance but his fishing gear following along behind reassured me.

I am sure you like me, have seen the pictures of mass graves in New York, anonymous pine coffins half covered in dirt, lined up like 19th century plague victims. You've heard the stories from big cities across the US which now enjoys the distinction of more coronavirus deaths than any other lucky country. And yet in the Florida Keys the numbers remain low, hospitals are coping and most people are paying attention to their social distancing.

There is hardly any testing and our public health system is run, as it were, by a lawyer who is about as visible as any ghostly presence might take in a leadership role. And yet the Keys are coping under the redoubtable leadership of the Sheriff of all people. Law enforcement has taken the lead in this health care crisis and the Sheriff has overridden the State even though they told him to take down the checkpoints on the two entry points to the islands. One person has been arrested and to my astonishment they say thousands have been turned back. Thousands of people still think it's a good time for a Keys vacation? 

I was always a big fan of the fire department taking over the ambulance service when the private company lost the contract. Since then the business of collecting money from a population largely uninsured has been problematic but the service has been pretty damned good. Combined with the Sheriff's expanded public helicopter service if you can't get it in the Keys, Miami is not far away and Miami has  first class healthcare, as I found out rather painfully.  The ambulance service in Key West has doubled up with spare ambulances, lots of cleaning and sterilizing and protective gear. They are ready to cope and that makes my job of dispatching them a lot less stressful. And yet so far the number of Covid-19 cases reported is easily managed.  I feel like we in the Keys should be feeling very very lucky so far. Or I'd like to think we are well managed. 

In my early morning walks I find people stand well back, everyone gets the idea that separation is important. At the same time everywhere you go you see evidence of a stationary city, the old curling signs telling people businesses are closed, a community that stopped still when the plague swept through town.

I was asked on Instagram what it's like to be in the Keys during the epidemic. That's a tough one to answer as I'm not typical, I don't hang out in bars but I do miss the choices of visiting places that made me appreciate life in this small town. Take your pick, Key West is yours. For me the live theaters, the Tropic Cinema and the Studios of Key West top my list but its pretty arbitrary. I miss the public toilets in the morning whose absence means I can't drink tea on my drive into town with Rusty. Is that weird? I have a whole circuit of places I can pee in peace when out with my dog and now they are all locked. Bugger. I like my morning Yorkshire Gold and now I have to wait until I get home. First world problem.

The hopeful sign in the window of the Business Guild on Duval Street...you suppose June will see us "back to normal?' It's inconceivable to me that we could still be here drilling the tourism economy into the ground. I got a call at work from some guy Up North who asked me, a police dispatcher, when the Covid-19 shut down would be over. I just sat there wondering why he needed me to help him to decide to cancel his fishing trip. Dude, I wanted to say, I canceled my Irish vacation at the beginning of March. But there again I'm an adult and I felt no need to call the Irish Gardai to ask their opinion. But we live in an age of learned helplessness I find. 

And then there are the members of the community who won't let their standards down. Leaves are falling and accumulating. They make the town look forgotten, and I know it's a temporary thing but that sound of leaves blowing in the wind feels like a ghost town is wrapped around you and your dog.

We stepped into the street to avoid him, he barely acknowledged us as he kept on sweeping with determination and precision. I admire such dedication especially as I suck at it. Though in my defense I trimmed the bushes lining my drive and encroaching my mailbox. Doing my ineffectual bit to push back entropy. I can't stand gardening.

This endless hurricane evacuation is wearing on everyone, the shortage of work and money, the confused and uncertain future, leaders who can offer no advice as they seem to know as little as we do. What a life. And then there are our neighbors who just don't get it. Seen Sunday morning at the White Street Pier, the real bandits gathering in a large clump in a public place. I looked and wondered why they feel the need to do it while the rest of us are trying to stay apart:

I keep hoping for the best, I keep wanting to believe we are close to peak infection, I trust this virus won't come back before there is an effective vaccine. I know you are doing the same and in the end we can only hope this social distancing stuff works and the imbeciles will get onboard. If they don't this thing could drag on beyond even my capacity to be isolated. Then what? 

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.

Historical Monument

And today, in an effort to avoid thinking about the coronavirus we look at a small piece of Key West history. The substation is next to the old diesel generator plant at the end of Angela Street.

It was all before my time, built in 1890 and in use powering the city for 70 years. The Geraldine Street side of the building has become an art display.

Given the deterioration after fifty years of being abandoned the city planned to tear the building down. Once that plan was announced everyone suddenly noticed the brick structure and the drive was on to save it.

 Just over a year ago the Miami Herald was reporting a new set of plans for the overlooked building.

 "A Key West nonprofit will redevelop the crumbling former diesel plant into an interactive museum that features a microbrewery and restaurant. The goal of the museum is, in part, to reflect the importance of the historically black neighborhood of Bahama Village, which is largely gentrified and infused with art galleries and restaurants."

I don't know why but Rusty got it into his head that there was stuff worth sniffing alongside the building. Then he rolled in the grass which always requires untangling his leash and inbetween all this drama I wielded my camera.

 We were alone, it was sunny but not yet hot and I enjoyed the break before we had to resume our exercise plan. 

There aren't that many brick buildings in Key West so I take advantage of any opportunity to photograph brick structures. 

It used to be that bricks were brought to Key West as ballast in sailing ships, turning dead weight into cargo but that source of supply has dried up in the modern era. So brick buildings are not that common in a town made of wood. 

 Turning this building into something useful is going to cost an estimated $15 million and before the interesting stuff happens they have to make sure it stays up and doesn't turn into a pile first.

 The Key West Art and Historical Society has it's work cut out. I hope it turns out well.

Caroline Coronavirus

I got an e-mail titled "A Bunch of Rambling" from a  friend in Arizona. Thanks Bruce, now I've got to figure out how to write a page that is as interesting. I took Rusty up Caroline Street Wednesday when I was in town to get prescriptions and of course no one was around.  The Marker Hotel is silent and dark, which it obviously has to be...I normally walk by and wish the old Jabour's Trailer Park was still there. 

Even before the coronavirus problems it was getting harder to find quirky sights in Old Town, a  by product inevitably of gentrification. However as I trail along behind Rusty I keep an eye open. This one I liked (below) which has the capacity to bring a  gentle smile when you know the pineapple is traditionally a symbol of welcome in Key West. Which is why they are everywhere in home decorations and gingerbread designs. 

In normal times you'll see a line of people drinking coffee and reading papers on the porch so once again you get  a little jolt seeing the chain across the steps and the porch empty and the front door closed. 

Similar picture slightly changed by the presence of a homeless guy pedaling by. Nothing and no one else. I remember when the zombie apocalypse fad was its height and people around me would speculate how great it would be to have all debts cancelled and life lived at it's most fundamental instead of dealing with modern societal limitations. I wonder if those faddish thoughts have been pushed aside by the reality of lock downs and closures and too much time on their hands.

Hope your bike doesn't get a flat. Apparently bike shops aren't essential so you'd better get back to your spooning skills and dexterity with patches and glue and all that ghastly childhood drama. Rubber wasn't so durable when I was a youngster and roads were covered in trash so fixing a  flat was a required skill and aside from being useless at it, pinching the tube on the rim with painful regularity, I hated doing it.

 And then we close this day's selection of pictures with a joke that drifted past my dog and I as we strolled so I could not resist. I labeled it Hopeful Scooterist on Instagram.

And that was five minutes of your life you won't get back. So now I'd better go and see what Bruce is blathering about. Check your e-mails, you never know what you might find!

Walking Alone

I was reading a  discussion on a  photography forum about how to use one's camera in these days of limited mobility. As the group has a worldwide readership it was quite interesting to see some Australians claim they are not allowed to use cameras when getting their daily exercise.  The state of Victoria has apparently outlawed photography, perhaps on the grounds that people might stand around in public pretending to exercise while indulging their artistic sensibilities.

Here in Florida you can go boating as long as you don't anchor in a  crowd, you can fish but not from bridges for fear of creating crowds, you can hunt and walk as long as not in crowds and you can even crowd each other out while praying. Oddly enough some European countries don't allow you to drive to a quiet place to get your exercise and you have to walk only in your neighborhood. That sounds daft to me as the main street in my subdivision is crowded with dog walkers, but look at this back road:

I have increased my circuit of trails and back roads in order not to bore my dog, or myself, and to look for things that catch my eye. The travel restrictions have emptied the Keys and now whether I am walking the mangroves or the city streets I find more time to look and see uninterrupted.

I am reminded of those children who prefer to invent their own toys rather than play with store bought items. Many roads have broad shoulders and thick impenetrable scrub and as unappealing as they appear close up I enjoy my time here as much as Rusty seems to. I feel lucky to live here in these hard times. I don't envy apartment dwellers and urban victims of lock down restrictions.

To be alone; it's a wonderful thing.