Category: Travel

Bridges, boats and birds

Dolphin playing in Shem Creek
Dolphin playing in Shem Creek

Yesterday I was lazy.  About my writing, at least.  I spent the day on the water, enjoying the sun and the ocean breeze and the spray off the bow of a boat.  I saw several pods of dolphins playing in Shem Creek, and a flock of pelicans crowded up against a fishing boat.  I hear there’s a family of manatees underneath a dock there, too, but they weren’t out.  Now that I know where to watch for them, though, I’ll keep looking.

I felt guilty for about 3 minutes yesterday as I pulled on my bathing suit and made a conscious decision not to write.  But there are times when we need to refuel, and it was one of those days for me.  I’d been hard at work on the novel, and also finishing up applications for scholarships and residencies, and it was time for a break.  I needed to clear my head to make room for new stuff.

Pelican and friend
Pelican and friend

So I spent the day on the water, and the evening reading.  My idea of the perfect day.  Today I felt rejuvenated, ready to get back to my fictional world.  And while I was working on my tan yesterday, apparently I did get some other work done.  Subconsciously I must have been unraveling a tangled plot point I’ve been having trouble with, because this morning it had worked itself out in my sunburned head.

That’s the thing about being a writer.  I’m always working, either thinking about a story or picking up sights, sounds and smells for new ones.   At least that’s what I like to tell myself as I rub in the sunscreen.

Arthur Ravenel Bridge
Arthur Ravenel Bridge from Mt P to Charleston

A Love Letter to Key West

On the last night of my three week residency at The Studios of Key West, I reflect back on that first day, when, bone tired from missed connections and a four hour shuttle ride, I arrived to find that almost immediately I was in love.  It might have been the smell of flowers in the air, or the ocean breeze, or it could have been the wonderful staff of TSKW waiting to greet me.  Or maybe it was the umbrella of the mango tree dripping with fruit, its branches filling the sky above my little house. Or the house itself, with its spiral staircase and deck up in the midst of the mangos.  Or the geckos that raced across the sculpture garden outside my door.

My love affair with this magical island started that night.  But as love does, the more I got to know Key West, the more my affection grew.  Key West, I love you for your Victorian architecture, for your rich history and your diverse culture, for your food, and your sunsets and your beaches.  I love that I can get a Cuban coffee, walk next door for a French pastry, then head another block down for conch fritters.

But mostly I love your people, the welcoming, non-judgmental, creative and varied people who call this magical island their home.  The people who show up for gallery openings and readings and fundraisers for the arts.  The people who work hard all day and still have the energy to go salsa dancing half the night.  Who welcomed this traveler and took her in, took her to Louis’ Backyard and to the Green Parrot, took her dancing and gave her space to create. 

I’ll miss you, Conch Republic, but I’ll be back, I swear.  And we’ll go dancing on the beach at sunset.