As I have lately willingly confessed in another of my “blurbs” (as Mrs C is wont to call them) I have fairly exhausted whatever there is to say about almost any topic arising from my experiences. And while I continue to accept this primarily as true it nonetheless fails to diminish my inexhaustible pleasure in a running commentary upon those same subjects. Which is to say, upon my vapid life. Indeed I unabashedly derive considerable entertainment from the overt acknowledgement of my particular worldliness. Clearly I am now beyond apology for what is restrained sophistication. Permit me by contrast (and in the spirit of cooperation) to observe that I rather relish the arrant simplicity of it all. The literary environment is notable for its cathartic effect unrelated to its dynamic effect. It is but another form of self expression not terribly remote from the banjo or harmonica though obviously for a limited audience.
It was not long ago – say two years to be precise – that I coveted to complete a journey to Key Largo, to accomplish the episode as a feature of undisguised gravity. It is only now, after the near completion of our six-month odyssey, that I am fully acquainting myself with the artistry of the place. It has surely become a signal part of my life and record. This in spite of the arrant simplicity of it all.
For example the unglamorous but nonetheless piquant matter of wall hangings throughout our 2-storey townhouse. Everything bespeaks the nautical and subtropical themes; viz., fish, pelicans, seashells, sunrise, sunset, palm trees. Anything maritime is in my books a healthful product, from the precision of the compass to the dissolution of the rum. And naturally the turquoise sea about it all.
I was pleased late this afternoon to discover by accident when examining the visiting card on the back of the water colour pictured above that the artist is a former resident (and possible owner) of U-7 of Buttonwood Bay which we now inhabit for the season.
In addition there are within our digs bamboo furnishings, soft coloured lampshades and sofas and a predominance of light coloured wall paint. In all there is the indisputable air throughout of a subtropical residence. Casting my look across the marine inlet I see a magnificent bloom of bougainvillea. There are tall palm trees blowing in the wind; the frond’s wavering high up.
Yesterday’s murky weather slowly evaporated by late this morning. The sky began to reopen to disclose the azure dome. I delayed my lapse to the pool by tricycling around Buttonwood Bay.
At the pool there were no chaises longues available. Soon there were a number of children who arrived. I settled upon a deck chair, disrobed to my bathing suit, stored my key and iPhone in my empty boat shoes, then dozed in the warm afternoon sunshine.