After an excellent couple of weeks, Tom and Lexi have left us, but we have another month here in Key West, before beginning our slow journey back to Colorado. Definitely loving the warmth and the color. From flowers . . .

. . . to the roosters that roam freely everywhere . . .. . . to the changing colors of the sea and sky . . .

. . . to decorations on houses . . . . . . to clothing at the neighborhood laundromat . . .. . .  to the stunning sunsets for which Key West is famous . . .

. . . everything is very colorful here and I love it. LOVE it. (Okay maybe not exactly LOVING the tie-dye pants, but still.)

It makes me wonder if one of the reasons I’m not a big fan of winter is that I miss color as much as I miss light and warmth (and my comfy flip-flops, let’s be honest). If that’s true, WOOHOO, because I can fix that. I’m thinking big green salads dotted with orange bell peppers, blue china bowls heaped with shiny fresh lemons, bright red sweaters and flowers in vases . . . . Okay I’m starting to hear Julie Andrews singing in the background: ” . . . these are few of my favorite things . . . . ” so I’ll stop now!

All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites. ∼Marc Chagall

The uglier, older, meaner, iller, poorer I get, the more I wish to take my revenge by doing brilliant color, well arranged, resplendent. ∼Vincent van Gogh

One can speak poetry just by arranging colors well, just as one can say comforting things in music. ∼Vincent van Gogh

Here’s wishing you color and light and warmth during this final stretch of winter!

We actually arrived in Key West Sunday afternoon, the first of February, where it is–as promised–warm and weird, but I’m a bit behind with my posts, so here are a few shots of the three-day road trip down from Folly Beach.

Tom and Lexi came down with us and we all took a break at the Caroline Cherry Company, which sells, jams, ciders, pralines (YUM), and even canned condensed she-crab soup. Plus there were samples of other irresistible treats, so that ended up being a pricey little stop.

None of us had ever been to Savannah, Georgia, so we decided to have lunch there along the river. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea, since finding parking was nearly impossible.  We eventually found a parking garage and drove around and up, around and up, traversing about six floors until finally ending up on the roof. On the plus side, we had excellent views of some great architectural details:

Since we were driving, you’ll be happy to hear we did NOT eat (drink?) here. →

Instead we chose Huey’s and ordered regional and New Orleans inspired cuisine like po’ boys and red beans and rice, all excellent, and then drove the rest of the way to St. Augustine, Florida.  The historic part of town was all lit up and gorgeous when we arrived, but I didn’t get even one picture of that. Only the sunrise over the Atlantic from our balcony:

Saturday we drove to the southwest edge of Miami — and actually survived the experience — no thanks to the INSANE people on I-95. Lexi white-knuckled it all the way, and she wasn’t even driving. Seriously. The absolute worst,  most-reckless drivers any of us have ever encountered and not even ONE state patrol car. Probably afraid for their safety! Way too many NASCAR wannabes, including one idiot who took an exit from several lanes over, but mistimed it, so he had to drive over dirt and grass to exit, all at about 70 miles per hour. YIKES.

But, ah-h-h-h-h-h-h, evening at the Sofitel Hotel, where the staff speaks French, as it happens, so fun for me to chat a bit in French. David just enjoyed NOT driving:

The crazies were still out for the first bit on Sunday, but things slowed down on the Overseas Highway that links the Keys. And the blues of the water on both the Gulf and the Atlantic side of the road were absolutely breathtaking and soothed our frazzled nerves. I promise to get some photos for you.

Until then, here’s hoping you thrive this weekend, not just survive!

“We’ll never survive!”
“Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”  ∼William Goldman, The Princess Bride    

So we’ve apparently been living on the edge all this time–“the edge of America” that is . . .

. . . and it does have that vibe — a bit 60’s surfer / hippy.  There’s even an old boat at the side of the road as you enter town, available to paint–graffiti-style–for random greetings, commemorations, even including R.I.P. as it turns out. What’s painted on the boat rarely lasts more that 24 hours. We briefly considered getting some paint to surprise Tom and Lexi with a boat greeting, but someone had just died, so we decided to let him have a bit more attention. The other day on the way to our daily beach walk, there was a super-cheery, colorful “STAY HAPPY!” but I decided to catch a photo on the way back home. Too late! It had already been painted over.

Of course, we’re just temporary inhabitants, but here are a few who really do live here . . .

Please help identify these birds. I have no idea. Whatever they are, they get to enjoy sights like this all the time . . .

LOVE that silver-blue when the light hits just right.

We were treated to a special sunset our last night in the Folly Beach condo . . .

But now it’s time to head out, so . . .

We’re off to warmer and weirder Key West, a whole different kind of edge, I’m told.

Wishing you warmth wherever you are and happiness, even without the stay-happy boat picture, and interesting experiences, even if they’re not at all weird.

Hard to believe it, but we’re in our last week in the Charleston area. Our friends Tom and Lexi have joined us for a bit . . .

. . . so of course, as David and I were planning what to do, I wanted everything to be perfect. I studied the tide tables and noticed that a super low tide would happen late Friday afternoon, right after they got here, so we decided we’d all go out to the beach and find amazing shells in the tide pools, and then we’d . . . and then we’d . . . . Except my directions were not 100% clear, so they found themselves on a bit of a detour before they made it here and arrived a bit later than expected. AND it was raining. AND they’d been in the car ALL day. So no super-low-tide beach walk (at least not until the next day).

Okay, I know. Some details are completely out of our control, but you’ve got to admit, sometimes attention to detail pays off . . . .

. . . even in this quirky seafood restaurant we found on the way back from checking out Isle of Palms and Sullivan’s Island. Those are actual aquariums in the portholes. How great is that?

Except here’s the thing. Sometimes you can make yourself crazy–or at least really stressed out–trying to get all the details perfect. I showed you an earlier stage of my watercolor portrait attempt last post, and when we took Tom and Lexi to the Coleman Fine Art gallery, I got talking to Smith Coleman (Mary Whyte’s husband) about how her paintings and her books had inspired me to attempt to paint a portrait. Since on the back of my camera the photo of it was only about 1″ x 5/8″ I decided it was safe to show it to him. He was kind, certainly, but commented that the color value was too much the same and I needed more contrasting lights and darks. I worked a bit more on it, and in some ways it’s better, I think. But it’s really hard to stop messing with it, and with watercolor you really do have to stop before you turn the whole thing to mud. Okay. Backing away now.

I’ve decided to celebrate the fact that I painted it at all, considering how afraid I was even a month ago to paint anything. Now I can think about starting something new.

Guess I’d better leave perfection to God and beautiful nature. I love the detail of the colors and patterns on these shells . . .

Everything made by human hands looks terrible under magnification–crude, rough, and asymmetrical. But in nature every bit of life is lovely. And the more magnification we use, the more details are brought out, perfectly formed, like endless sets of boxes within boxes. ∼Roman Vishniac (1897-1990) — Photographer

Maybe a bit of a sweeping generalization, but certainly true when comparing much of human endeavor versus, say, flowers or shells or even snowflakes.

Here’s wishing you eyes to see and time to enjoy the beauty in the details!