A North Atlantic Breeze

Nothing rivals the ineffable resplendence and the soothing relief of a mid-Atlantic breeze on a hot and sunny day on Key Largo.  A sudden skiff of wind off the face of the Great Lakes or the St. Lawrence River (or for that matter any lesser fresh water source) indisputably fails to match the unmarshalled strength of the subtropical ocean. Nor to go head to head with the incomparable atmosphere of a windy turbulence and assuaging salty blend. The latter is at the time practically imperceptible except upon the distance of an irreversible 1,500 miles when predictably the demulcent recollection enigmatically and hauntingly survives.

The subtropical zones or subtropics are geographical and climate zones to the north and south of the tropics. Geographically part of the temperate zones of both hemispheres, they cover the middle latitudes from 23°26′10.6″ (or 23.43627°) to approximately 35° north and south. The horse latitudes lie within this range.

The temperature today climbed to 76°F with a southeasterly wind of 21 km/h. The wind was balmy and dry.  Meanwhile I have Roberto Cacciapaglia (“Quarto Tempo”) to listen to, the mere titles of whose compositions inspire me – Oceano, Atlantico, Floating, Outdoor, Seconda navigazione (Piano Solo Version) and The Boy who dreamed Aeroplanes.

The nature of my ingredients, the way in which the whole or mixture is made up, was first critically composed as I sat upon the edge of my bed late this morning, staring absently at the synthetic carpet beneath me, sedately recovering my connection to the world.  It was well after ten o’clock before I removed myself from an uncommonly deep though disarticulated sleep like a diaphanous spirit from the past. On checking my email there was a message from dearest Fiona who dwelt at some length upon the offences of confusion of fish and butter knives and the improper deportment of a white linen table napkin. Such preliminaries naturally exact immediate convention and scrutiny not only be virtue of their assured intelligence but also as a matter of standards and maintenance of social rigour. I hadn’t yet deciphered the North Atlantic breeze. That uplifting elevation would await the completion of my breakfast ritual which I am grateful to report was concluded today with the utmost precision and favour. I was then in readiness to confront the atmosphere.

The atmosphere was instantly apparent upon opening the front door of the townhouse upon its eastern prospect. The wind straight away wrought a cool transport from the southeast. As I sat transfixed upon my tricycle seat and commenced the endorsement of my Apple Watch and the Outdoor Cycle Workout I sensed that today was a day for unrestrained application throughout Buttonwood Bay. I pedalled non-stop from the north to the south end, and from east to west on the island. I was animated by a rare vigour swelled by the North Atlantic breeze. It was refreshing and vivifying.