Palm trees by the pool make a unique sound in the mellow afternoon wind. It’s more of a wash and less of a whisper such as through the tall pines in Muskoka at the rocky edge of Grand Island where the mahogany launch lay moored in the copper-coloured boathouse. The pine needles finely cut the wind like the strings of a violin. The palm ferns on Longboat Key sway with the sea. The tossing ferns critically interrupt the penetrating sunlight. The dark shade triggers a tumult of blaze and midnight scattered with points of light. I move to another chaise longue to escape the conflict and restore my dreamy immersion. The orb of white contrasts the layers of azure and green.

This morning there was an urgency because – although the weather today was predicted to be ideal (and it was) – the forecast tomorrow is rain and thereafter cooler but fine. Not a moment to miss! On December 28th we surpassed our first two months on Longboat Key. Four months remain, each day as precious as the other. We’re locked in that discernible period of mercurial temperatures, never terribly cold but intensity dropping sometimes 20 degrees below the customary high. It affords those few occasions on which to wear a cotton sweater. When I can employ the sleeve to conceal my ordination through Atomic No. 79.

Jane Austen (1775 – 1817) scarcely wrote of the two epochs of history through which she lived; viz., the American struggle for independence (1776) and the French Revolution (1789).

Today we have a remote conflict arising in the Middle East; viz., Iran. All I know of that area is that it’s close to Afghanistan and Pakistan where notoriously groups are spawned to damage American worldwide interests. My ignorance is impenetrable. I can’t imagine I’ll ever understand what profound distemper causes this discord. It isn’t the lack of steam or electricity which differentiates the present from the past. My brief consultation of CNN and BBC confirms as usual the news is all about what not why. My instinct is to preserve myself by rationalizing our distance of any imaginable danger on the tiny barrier island.