I have been enjoying Cheyenne's company for more than a year now, considering I adopted her from the Key West SPCA last December, and I am finding my dog is settling in quite nicely. Like most new dogs she used to follow me around rather obsessively but she is loosing her grip slightly. Some days she takes a nap downstairs under the house after we get home from a walk, not at all bothered that I am upstairs. Other days she passes out on her bed and ignores the fact that I am 25 feet away in the office. Lately she has taken to spending time outdoors during these cool winter days, sleeping on the recliner.
I came upstairs from doing the latest pile of laundry to find her looking adorable with her ear dangling over the edge of the chair. I crept in, picked up my camera and crept back out onto the deck and she was still passed out and totally oblivious.
She pretty much runs my life getting antsy if she doesn't get to jump in the car twice a day for her walks to various parts of the Lower Keys.
Winter is not always the time of year when winds die down and the waters go flat but we have had a few such days. Like this:
The water for swimming however is too cold for anyone not a polar bear to enjoy. Visitors plunge about reckless off the beaches but locals have given up till next summer.
I was trying to explain the twelve days of Christmas to Noel, and how traditionally decorations have to come down by January 6th, Twelfth Night, or immeasurable bad luck will follow.
It was another slow night in dispatch and my young Cuban colleague suddenly decided it was time for the decorations to go. While I monitored the main police channel on the radio, Noel methodically went round the Communications Center removing every last decoration, light and piece of tinsel. He disassembled the tree and boxed the parts, he coiled up the lights and put them away neatly ready for next year. In between his self imposed chores Noel answered the phones and checked some driver's licences. In the background the last white lights of Christmas glowed...
...but not for long.
This next picture illustrates why people come here from Up North.
I dare say not many convertibles are converting in Illinois this month but these two were taking advantage of the afternoon sunshine on South Roosevelt Boulevard. And on the subject of deciphering the motive of the many visitors in town this holiday season, this guy on a Harley decided he
had to ride up on the sidewalk for the Mile Marker Zero sign.
It seemed to be a decision fraught with peril considering how many pedestrians were milling around the same famous spot.
On the subject of Christmas decorations, even my wife the Jew who is not at all familiar with Christmas traditions thought this Methodist nativity looked a bit sparse. One sheep, no shepherds, no lights, no angels, no wise men.
This did not make Eaton street shine at this point in the holiday cycle. On Duval Street Chico's clothing store has been closed- "for a while" according to friends of mine who are more knowledgeable than I on matters of fashion. It too leaves a gap, as it were, on Key West's main drag.
Doubtless it will be filled soon enough.
Downtown was quite full in the weeks around Christmas and New Years; full to a degree I had not seen in a while. Highway One has been absolutely packed with traffic as well, making it hard to get onto the highway from side roads. Yet when I looked at the familiar scooter parking space on Eaton at Duval I was surprised to see it empty- almost.
The funny thing was that only the cream colored Kymco was properly parked. The two red scooters were dicing with a ticket for improper parking (outside the box).Perhaps when they arrived the space was packed. Further down Eaton Street I went to see
The King's Speech, a movie about British King George The Sixth getting over his speech impediment. Geoffrey Rush played the Australian elocution expert who helped the King, played by Colin Firth master his crippling stammer- a huge hindrance in the age of radio. I had previously carried a coupe of pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Seaward Johnson's life size sculpture outside the theater in classic pose:
I was roundly castigated for not having the bad taste to shoot a picture up her billowing skirt. Never one to let manners get in the way here we are:
I was quite surprised to see a pair of vestal bloomers billowing in the image. Some things are better left undone.
On the walk up Eaton after the film I saw an evocative house dimly illuminated.
A propos of nothing in particular. It's just Key West, looking good.
Wayne and Chuck, Zuzu and Tootie, Cheyenne and myself. Humans, Vizlas and a Labrador. Zuzu or Tootie (I still can't tell them apart).
Chuck.
Tootie (or Zuzu). 
Wayne.
On the bridge on the Loop which is supposed to be closed to motor vehicles. 
These two were visiting from England full of news from "home" while they were out walking from their winter home on Cudjoe Key. I find expatriates a little tiresome as I consider my home to be here, on Ramrod Key, not where I went to school in England. However they do rescue ill treated dogs so they get full marks for that.
Chuck is like my wife, all sociable and friendly and able to chat with anyone. Wayne and I are much more alike in that small talk bores us.
Our goal was to talk to the sea on a trail that was new to me off the main Loop.
We walked past an old quarry filled with water (and a Labrador).
Suddenly Wayne and Chuck dived into the bushes at the southwest corner of the quarry.
And suddenly we popped out onto some oceanfront property, complete with rusted engine block, possibly an old boat mooring...
It was a lovely spot and we were lucky to hit it at low tide as we had room to roam. Chuck pointed out this extraordinary osprey nest.
The views down the coast were magnificent, as always.
A good time was had by all.
American Shoal light on the reef in the distance. 
Cheyenne is quite fond of Wayne her godfather. She gets chicken and rice when she stays with Wayne and Chuck and I like to think that's the reason she gets so excited when we go round to visit. 
We strolled back to the car and out of nowhere came this daredevil on a motorcycle.
He reminded me of me 40 years ago. Only I had no gear, no helmet just a bike. Oh happy, innocent days.
It was another slow night in dispatch and my young Cuban colleague suddenly decided it was time for the decorations to go. While I monitored the main police channel on the radio, Noel methodically went round the Communications Center removing every last decoration, light and piece of tinsel. He disassembled the tree and boxed the parts, he coiled up the lights and put them away neatly ready for next year. In between his self imposed chores Noel answered the phones and checked some driver's licences. In the background the last white lights of Christmas glowed...
...but not for long.
Cheyenne is a patient dog when I have my camera out. She stops on command and waits while I fiddle with the apparatus. 
Usually I let the pictures dictate the essay, but as I walked the title of this essay was firmly in my mind.
The many colors of a winter day in the Southernmost City.
The roof line of a burial vault at the Key West cemetery.
