Mikaloguer

“It’s a story I made up that’s probably true.”

[line from a book I’ll never write.]

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Weather is

Besides the Isaac/storm situation, tonight I am thinking about late November, 2009. I was doing just fine until the cold weather and beginnings of snow. Cloudcroft was the perfect home base for me in New Mexico. I could travel all over the state and have the village to come home to. Nine thousand feet above the sea. Not too terribly over-developed. I’d even thought of staying for a few years. Or forever, perhaps.

The need for change in environment came on me like a panic attack. I damn near fled, packing through the night, traveling “down the hill” with morning’s first light not yet at my back. Ultimately, headed for the Pacific coast, but not right away. I was so tired…

It was an island date: Two teenish souls plowing down Catherine Street on a bicycle, giggling away.

She was standing on the rear wheel foot pegs, leaning into her young lover, head nestled into his shoulder as they headed toward White Street.

Plumeria, or Frangipani, as it is also known.

lone teenaged young woman cycling by, one hand on handlebar, other hand gesturing forward with pointed finger.
“I’m gonna love myself today” she wailed.

Boogie just had a summer cut, as she is not living in the Himalayas and this island is hot and muggy about now. I was sitting in my front porch living room office garden, editing images, when the vision of her caught my eye. Stop the presses. Get the camera. Boogie allows me to invade her world, sleepily.

Update: Boogie was always very careful, roaming the streets of Old Town Key West. In 2013 she was hit by a car, right in front of the house. She died within minutes. She was the most beautiful ugly cat I’d ever known. She’s greatly missed on the corner of Catherine and William Streets.

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