Florida pace

The breeze lifts the hem of my skirt as I settle down on the grass. Unbidden, I hear Otis Redding crooning, "Sitting on the dock of the bay... " but instead of the the tide rolling away, I'm watching the red snapper jump out of the water, only to land back with a juicy splash. Just another lazy day in Punta Gorda, the soothing run of water from the jacuzzi to the pool behind me, the lapping of the waves against the boats in front of me. Deboo has seen a manatee in these waters and crocs are not unusual too... gulls, cranes and even the odd pelican swoop over the water, skimming the surface with impudence. I wonder who would be more startled if the snapper leaped at the precise moment when one of these was just overhead.

The sun's personality is lightened by a steady breeze and instead of balmy, my eyelids blink faster in an attempt to stay awake in the cozy silence, broken only by the splashing fish and the rustling of lizards in the grass. A plaintive meow makes me smile and I inhale a black cat before being accosted by a wet tongue. Bliss.