My back yard

Is it spring on Key Largo?  Have the winter blusters expired? Have the blossoms erupted? I am uncommonly aware this morning of the chirping birds. One particularly sonorous rendition is a drawn out upper then lower note.  Another is a rapid upper then lower note.  A third is the popular tweet (3 identical sounds in succession).  A fourth is a whistle from lower to upper note. They are all high pitched, the latter whistle being the highest and most shrill.

What little I presume to know of avians is that their calls double as danger signals and mating invitations.  Given the placid environment here by the pool I am guessing the calls are more directed to an amorous design – though the speed with which the tiny geckos swift about upon the earth below betrays perhaps a more hidden jungle atmosphere than I might detect.

Meanwhile for those of us languishing in the ether, regarding the sun and by-passing fluffy white clouds through the verdant tree branches and wavering palm tree fronds, the most palpable interruption apart from the bird songs is an occasional helicopter or sea plane training the spine of the Florida Keys for unknown purpose.

There is a substantial wind today NE26 km/h. The air is fresh and dry. The weather report on my iPhone confines itself predominantly to the forecast of the wind not the sunshine as one might expect. This I believe is because the primary interest on Key Largo is not so much sunbathing as sailing whether for leisure, fishing or diving in the coral reef. Having sailed as a passenger upon a large catamaran from Fort Myers to Key West I can attest that on the open sea (even if only the Gulf of Mexico) the most seemingly immoderate wind is a gale. Unless one has one’s sea legs or Dramamine the venture quickly translates to discomfort when the only thing worse than fearing you’ll die is fearing you won’t!

The purity of the air today – its drying and abstinent flavour – seems to have persuaded many of the local residents on Buttonwood Bay to remain comfortably installed in their digs; or, they may already have begun their day somewhere else upon the island, such as shopping or brunch. Or perhaps they – and some of their younger visitors – have undertaken a topical local diversion such as a glass bottomed boat adventure, a snorkelling visit to the outer reefs, a guided kayak eco-tour among the mangroves and manatees or a fishing charter.

For my part it was nothing more auspicious than an Outdoor Cycle of 4.35 KM about the compound sufficient to expiate any guilt I may have from languishing by the pool, occasionally swimming but mostly just relishing the incomparable rays.

We invigorated our afternoon by having an open telephone conversation with my sister and her husband.  They brought us up to speed on all the latest familial pursuits, including in particular one extraordinary expedition scheduled for this coming summer (July – August) in the Yukon. Seemingly Charlotte proposes to act as a “wrangler”.

In North America, a wrangler is someone employed to professionally handle animals, especially horses and cattle, but sometimes other types of animals as well.

As well my niece Julia and her husband Matt are scheming an event in Las Vegas to re-take their marital vows.  Already people across the continent are planning to attend. My niece Jennifer has been retained as the in-house professional photographer.