Early this morning, after breakfast and brushing my teeth, I removed the car from the parking lot in front of the townhouse to a spot adjacent a nearby tennis court. It’s only a hop and a skip to there from the townhouse where we’re anticipating that substantial roof work will commence either today or tomorrow. I wanted to make room for the trades. And it constituted but a small intrusion of my otherwise bromidic day. Nonetheless it marked for me a noticeable adjustment to my stringent routine, one which lately has been disturbed by other minor though acute complications. As a consequence I was ready to regain my balance and to dedicate myself to earnest and uninterrupted shiftlessness.

To the credit of my stoic start to the day (complete with a shower of cold water), the hour was still early. Apart from the recognizable repeated walkers and dog walkers in the early morning, the Buttonwood Bay community normally lingers at home or beneath their feather downed duvets until beyond 11:00 am. Today however a gentleman contradicted this fashion by coming to the pool (where after a purgative tricycle ride I had gathered beneath the unimpeded rays) in order to secure a chaise longue and deck chair with complimentary towels before as quickly departing. It reminded me of an incident on the Mayan Riviera years ago when I mistakenly assumed possession of a chaise longue upon the toe of which someone had placed an appropriating magazine (misinterpreted by me as a mere indistinguishable deposit). The sequester though insufficient to obstruct me initially was cheerfully acknowledged upon the static reappearance of the landlord who, like a mother bird protecting its nest, flittered about me until I relinquished my seat.

Precedent to assuming my place beside the pool today, I had ridden my tricycle around the whole of Buttonwood Bay. It did as usual succeed to strengthen my overall moral fortitude. Not that I accomplished an extraordinary level of athleticism but rather simply purged my veins of the lingering contaminants of endless indolence.  I have parenthetically discovered that, judging by my general sensation, I derive palpably more from swimming than cycling. Having said that, a woman casually remarked earlier that there was reportedly an alligator sighted on the shoreline not far from where yesterday I was swimming in the sea. I can’t pretend to be totally immune to this intelligence though I accept that I treat it with the same naturalistic curiosity as another account of late of a manatee in the boat slip. Yet notwithstanding this swashbuckling on my part I decided today to forgo another visit to the sea for the moment. Besides Mrs. C (whom I encountered at the pool today fulfilling her constitutional 20-minutes of sunshine) informs me there is another access to the sea nearby her condominium. I have every intention to inspect this giardino segreto at the earliest opportunity tomorrow. My curiosity is provoked not only by the incurable allure of the sea but also by the photographic opportunity it may present.