I got out of the deliciously cool car and my Canon SX100 went into fog mode.
Spain Boulevard off Blimp Road is a small subdivision of homes on gravel roads in the middle of north Cudjoe Key's back country. I am very happy to bring my dog here and spend an hour wandering in the peace and quiet of a weekday afternoon.
It seems like an indulgence to live out of town and be forced to ride my motorcycle on a carbon wasteful commute by Bonneville instead of living in one of North America's most easily cycled cities. But I do enjoy the backwoods of the Lower Keys, and their vistas of woods and water.
I read somewhere that being out in Nature is a good way for humans to reduce their stress, as though this were some unusual discovery.
Cheyenne and I figured that out a long time ago. Indeed, I don't any humans that enjoy this sort of meandering as much as my dog and I do.
A private tennis court is one of those amenities I would never even consider. Probably because I don't play tennis. A decade in an English boarding school convinced me all sports involving balls are the work of the devil.
Key deer must like bananas if human residents have seen fit to put an electric fence around these examples.
The Spain Boulevard neighborhood rejoices in a variety of geographically suitable street names.
These red headed Florida wood peckers make a loud tapping noise when they are at work. It makes them hard to miss, even for a nature photographer as blind as me.
Cheyenne's tastes run more to puddle water.
I loathe iguanas not least because they trash my vegetables. They need to be exterminated, not helped across the streets. 
This is my dog resting, not an iguana.
This is also the spot where they keep horses, don't they?
Apparently they do. 
When we were in Santa Cruz, California, I wanted to walk Cheyenne in a county park in the mountains and I met a rather snotty park employee who told me dogs weren't allowed on the trails. "Why not?" I ask, incredulous. It seemed like the ideal spot to walk a dog...
Spain Boulevard off Blimp Road is a small subdivision of homes on gravel roads in the middle of north Cudjoe Key's back country. I am very happy to bring my dog here and spend an hour wandering in the peace and quiet of a weekday afternoon.It seems like an indulgence to live out of town and be forced to ride my motorcycle on a carbon wasteful commute by Bonneville instead of living in one of North America's most easily cycled cities. But I do enjoy the backwoods of the Lower Keys, and their vistas of woods and water.
I read somewhere that being out in Nature is a good way for humans to reduce their stress, as though this were some unusual discovery.Cheyenne and I figured that out a long time ago. Indeed, I don't any humans that enjoy this sort of meandering as much as my dog and I do.A private tennis court is one of those amenities I would never even consider. Probably because I don't play tennis. A decade in an English boarding school convinced me all sports involving balls are the work of the devil.
Key deer must like bananas if human residents have seen fit to put an electric fence around these examples.
The Spain Boulevard neighborhood rejoices in a variety of geographically suitable street names.These red headed Florida wood peckers make a loud tapping noise when they are at work. It makes them hard to miss, even for a nature photographer as blind as me.
Cheyenne's tastes run more to puddle water.I loathe iguanas not least because they trash my vegetables. They need to be exterminated, not helped across the streets. 
This is my dog resting, not an iguana.
This is also the spot where they keep horses, don't they?Apparently they do. 
When we were in Santa Cruz, California, I wanted to walk Cheyenne in a county park in the mountains and I met a rather snotty park employee who told me dogs weren't allowed on the trails. "Why not?" I ask, incredulous. It seemed like the ideal spot to walk a dog..."Because thre are other park users," the man said, looking down his nose at me and my dog. "Besides there are horses and how does your dog do around horses?"
"Umm, " I said, "therre aren't many horses where I live."
"Exactly," the snotty Santa Cruz county employee snipped, firmly closing the gate to Quail Hollow Park to me and Cheyenne. That was typical of California, totally unfriendly to dogs.
Mind you Cheyenne wasn't particuarly impressed by my equine friend and she did bark when I spent too much time petting the horse. Then she ignored it completely.
We walked on in the heat. These berries are a mystery to me, as is the name of most vegetation.
"Save. No Cut." We should all be so lucky.
"Culebras malas." Bad snakes. I appreciate the work snakes do keeping down pests but I am just as happy if they do it in the privacy of their own spaces. Aside from the levity of the guard-snake-sign, I met a neighbor of mine out exercising on her bicycle early one morning while Cheyenne and I were doing our morning constituional and Linda said she had come across a small rattle snake in the bushes. Linda is a nurse and told me the eastern brand are known for poisoning the nervous system, unlike the better known western diamondback which poisons the blood. Or some such. In any event Linda was worried for Cheyenne, and me I suppose. I have yet to see a snake but...This thing look fearsome enough up close.
I was glad to see some blooms still on the poinciana but the pods were enormous.
I am getting quite a collection of pictures of Cheyenne resting comfortably in the shade, this summer.
And in accordance with the sign it is, quite likley, time to...
...this essay.
Mind you Cheyenne wasn't particuarly impressed by my equine friend and she did bark when I spent too much time petting the horse. Then she ignored it completely.We walked on in the heat. These berries are a mystery to me, as is the name of most vegetation."Save. No Cut." We should all be so lucky.
"Culebras malas." Bad snakes. I appreciate the work snakes do keeping down pests but I am just as happy if they do it in the privacy of their own spaces. Aside from the levity of the guard-snake-sign, I met a neighbor of mine out exercising on her bicycle early one morning while Cheyenne and I were doing our morning constituional and Linda said she had come across a small rattle snake in the bushes. Linda is a nurse and told me the eastern brand are known for poisoning the nervous system, unlike the better known western diamondback which poisons the blood. Or some such. In any event Linda was worried for Cheyenne, and me I suppose. I have yet to see a snake but...This thing look fearsome enough up close.I was glad to see some blooms still on the poinciana but the pods were enormous.I am getting quite a collection of pictures of Cheyenne resting comfortably in the shade, this summer.And in accordance with the sign it is, quite likley, time to......this essay.
Looking down, for some reason I cannot recall, I saw this frog burnished by the sun and painted permanently into the asphalt. You just never know what you will see when you are out and about. In my left hand I was holding the extenda dog leash, in my right I held the poxket camera to my head. And all of that was preserved for posterity, in shadow, with the frog.
My wife ignored this foolishness as she communicated through her iPhone. Students came back to school Monday and teachers have lots to do, even after they leave the classroom, to get the new school year up and running again.
We took the broad median on 17th, a shady walkway back towards North roosevelt in the distance. It's proportions and trees remind me of the so-called "neutral ground" of New Orleans medians, those pieces of turf that used to separate the French from the Spanish neighborhoods of old.
I had previously photographed this garage door with a painting of an elderly Ford, and lately the elderly Ford has been on display with a "For Sale" sign on it. This day it was protected from the sun and hard to view.
I wonder what the value of this camera is to the occupant. These kinds of arrangments make me think that if the camera worked the sign wouldn't be needed. I wanted to scribble "so are you..." on the sign after I took the picture.
Time to collect the mail (or put a stop delivery order on the address).
Cheyenne was getting her money's worth on a short walk. She likes to walk even in this hot time of year but her energy flags much sooner than it does in the cool of winter. I keep a close eye on her when it is this hot.
We got back to the car, watered the panting dog before we set off for some shopping before heading home. As we drove off I noticed this car stop in the middle of the street. A young woman carrying a package or large envelope got out, left the door open and ambled up to a house as though to make a delivery. Meanwhile I observed in my rear view mirror that a truck was coming down the street and approaching the open door. It stopped, puzzled, and I snapped the picture.
It was the work of a moment for the truck to pull out and go round, but the puzzlement was justified. There was ample room for the young idiot to pull up to the curb, parked properly and make her delivery without this display of weird thoughtlessness. I wonder how we will cope as the stresses of poverty descend upon us and stretch our manners beyond the limit. 
I have an overwhelming sense of foreboding about the economy this Fall as kids head back to school this week and the news cycle revamps for the post vacation discussion of What Happens Next In America. Me? In my life I go to work, I ride home and I sometimes stop to smell the roses. Or in the case of Keys living I stop to admire the views, alongside my drive home.
I ride my Bonneville every work day, but rarely leave home early enough to pause on my commute. On my days off I like to haul Cheyenne around with me which forges me to take the car, because I enjoy her company, and she seems to enjoy mine.
It's been strikingly hot lately, proper high season for a summer time in the Keys. That means daytimes have hit 95 degrees and humidity is full on tropical. I enjoy the weather actually, as long as I remember to apply mosquito repellent before leaving home. With insect life held at bay I can stand and admire the play of sunlight and shadow on the waters of the Gulf, known locally as the back country, north of the Overseas Highway.
Park Key is an acre of gravel fill overgrown with mangroves at Mile Marker 18, just south of the traffic light at Sugarloaf School. It used to be a place to launch a boat as evidenced by the crumbling cement seawall, but the entrance to the island is blocked off by cement barricades, making the "No Parking" sign at the water's edge redundant.
The water temperature, especially in these shallow waters is bath-like and comfortable.
I am enjoying this summer in the Keys. Tourist traffic is down, and while that is generally the case this time of year, one has to wonder what our winter trade will be like in a year of burgeoning unemployment and the continued destruction of the American middle class.
Today is election day in Florida when Republicans and Democrats go to the polls to decide which party candidates will go forward to the Fall election. As primaries go we Democrats don't have many races to decide but my wife and I will be voting this evening to support local election of the School Superintendent in Monroe County as well as voting for Alex Sink in the Gubernatorial campaign. In this next photo the 16 million dollar Fat Albert balloon operated by the Air Force keeps guard over the straights of Florida from it's position above Cudjoe Key, a modest white speck among the clouds.
We also received our annual estimation of property taxes for the next year. I noted our taxable value has dropped and our tax rate has gone up by 200 dollars from $2450 to about $2650. Lots of my neighbors are up in arms about increasing tax rates on homestead properties (primary residences) but I've always felt paying taxes is my membership fee for participating in society. The other side of the coin is that my home's estimated value is down to $235,000 and with a $50,000 Homestead Exemption my taxable value is a modest $185,000 which sounds reasonable enough to me in this economic climate. Unfortunately we bought the house in 2005 for $559,000 which means we are asking ourselves why Wells Fargo, our taxpayer-bailed-out-mortgage-holder has proved unwilling to help us out, despite repeated polite requests for consideration and as our own income has shrunk. We are drowning in debt on a home worth one third what it was worth. And it will probably never again be worth as much as the mortgage in our life time. What would a sensible business leader do? If we were AIG we would ask for 180 billion in government money to bail us out. Fat chance. We face the prospect of no returns on a mortgage that doesn't seem worth the struggle now our own investment income has shriveled.
My wife and I were heading into Key West and we stopped, as we frequently do to walk the dog at the Bat Tower on Sugarloaf. To get there you turn north on an unmarked road next to the aircraft parked near the lodge. It's an old single engined plane, decommissioned and used to advertise the Sugarloaf Airport, a single runway airfield that also offers one the opportunity to jump out of a plane far above the earth. 
Simple aircraft have the ability to enchant us as we stand anchored to the ground, but people dangling and floating have the capacity to make us stand and stare slack jawed. 
I have no desire to try parachuting myself though when one looks at the website advertising Sky Dive Key West: 
There are many more such pictures at their website, where a mere $250 can get you doing the same thing. Rather them than me, thanks:
I have watched people indulge themselves in this form of flight and for whatever reason one seems to feel the need to dangle with one's legs wide apart.
It just seems so unprotected.
