Finally...
After all these years of forced cohabitation, I have fallen in love with Florida. It's not a blind sort of passion--her warts are far from subtle. The strip malls. The concrete. My neighborhood is an awkward photoshop; the clone stamp is very poorly applied.
But there is nothing more than standing in the middle of a Belle Glades farm, witness to the impossibly gawky grace of a spoonbill landing. In that wide open space, there are colors the Crayola box couldn't dream. Sound and hue and -- above all -- a still so thick that mere noise could never dent it.
Not a damn thing is more than that.
Yes, it was a short entry. But yes, I'm alive.
Hello from Florida.
But there is nothing more than standing in the middle of a Belle Glades farm, witness to the impossibly gawky grace of a spoonbill landing. In that wide open space, there are colors the Crayola box couldn't dream. Sound and hue and -- above all -- a still so thick that mere noise could never dent it.
Not a damn thing is more than that.
Yes, it was a short entry. But yes, I'm alive.
Hello from Florida.