Beaches

It's only poetic that the land of the brave and the free (not to mention, less bright) has one of the best beaches I've seen. Pure white powder sand, with the most peculiar ability of being able to refrain from being scorching! Quite unnatural, but I assure you, this particular brand of silicone has evolved into something so sophisticated, that it does not retain the heat of the suns rays. It's the kind of sand you want to wallow in, be buried in. Gah! Can't believe I actually said that, but it's just so freaky, you want to keep running your hands in it, dig your toes in deeper, feeling the contrast between the mild warmth of the surface and the menthol like coolness hidden below. Unfortunately, the tranquility is marred by piercing accents (so intrusive that I fail to notice when they move away...), the umbrella rentals are extortionate, the fries indifferent and the water freezing. Guess December really isn't the best time to dive even in the Orange state. In case you're wondering, it's the beach at Siesta Key, Sarasota. Perfect for a morning of antipathy followed by a smashing salad brimming with artichokes and palm hearts, leading to a leisurely inspection of an art gallery with some very interesting pieces and a keen salesman paying homage to your taste if not your wallet, with a grand finale of rich, dark fudge ice cream to push you over the edge.