Humans are
destroying the planet, extinguishing the biozone, doing terrible things to each
other. But, boy, can they build when
they want to. An extensive, convenient,
and relatively inexpensive miracle of air travel gets one away from ten degree
temperatures in hours, and allows some of us to spend time in the man-made
cliffs lining the ocean down here near Fort Lauderdale.
The problem
always was, and continues to be, balance and limits. What is too much? How far is too far? How do we stop ourselves when we know we
must. Or are we doomed to
destruction? Well, I’ve added my own bit
of excess, and here I am in a fine warm place for a while.
Tue-
Monstrous
skyscrapers march along the shore, an artificial dune of immense proportions,
filled with coral-like residents who each decorate their little cubic spaces
and try to figure out what to do with the day.
It’s all cash all the time, because there are almost no public spaces
and in a few years the income-starved local governments will probably be charging
for air to breathe.
Most of the
population here _ permanent or temporary _ is old. Some places seem an inch from becoming a
necropolis. Even the young people _
servitors to the ancient geezers wheezing around_ move in a deliberate rhythm,
as if lightly infected by the disease (of aging) that is slowly killing
everyone around them.
Wed -
Wed -
The Atlantic
is like the Atlantic everywhere _ harsh and rough most of the time, with the
wind usually blowing inland. Wave
follows wave, as waves have in all oceans since the first waters submerged the
planet. The continents may have changed,
life may have arisen, the composition of the atmosphere may have metamorphosed,
but breakers like these rolled in ever and ever.
I become
hypnotized, lost in time and space, watching the everlasting patterns that are
never identical, constantly moving.
Sounds lull me into a meditative trance.
Sand cushions my toes perfectly.
At least for a time, all is perfect.
But since I myself am not perfect, I will become bored and move on soon
enough.
Thu-
Thu-
Even here
along a shoreline that looks more built up with skyscrapers than Manhattan, a
small strip of wild dune is left between the buildings and the beach. Maybe it is aesthetic _ there is certainly
not enough to protect from storms. Palm
trees, grasses, beach peas, and a surprising number of other species eke out a
living as constricted as that of the humans roaming the small condo cubicles
above them.
Typically,
this should provoke a lament on how people have destroyed nature. But I have seen remnants of the natural wild
state of this strip at a couple of state parks nearby. Even though the countless snakes that
originally slithered through the impenetrable mucky thickets and the swarms of
insects that clouded the swamps are long gone, the remaining dense tangle is
hardly the place for a relaxing vacation.
All in all, I guess I prefer it as it is. I just wish there were some Michelangelo of
coast development determining a better set of aesthetic considerations rather
than the stark functional soviet housing blocks it has become.
Fri-
Fri-
Portuguese
Man o’War is as odd as its name. I
thought at first it was all jelly, but careful poking shows it is a tough
balloon. Reading indicates that not only
is it venomous, but more startling it is not even a true multicelled
organism. More like a beehive colony of
single cells, which somehow support the shape, the air inside, and the venomous
tentacles that swimmers (and beachcombers) should avoid.
I suppose,
since it is classed under hydrozoa, that ancestors of this creature diverged
from ours early on. I further suppose
there would be little if any fossil record of their changes over the eons. Perhaps they have been around in the same
shape since before creatures made it to land, or before there were multicelled animals
at all. These interesting but useless
speculations are both a blessing and a curse of our consciousness. It’s wonderful that we have the capacity to
learn and think of elements of our universe so alien to our everyday
experience.
Sat-
Sat-
Temperatures
reported on the news are a little deceptive.
With gale-force winds whipping off the Atlantic, churning the surf into
a fury, a person can chill down awful fast, even after chasing a hat down the
beach. So far, the winds have hardly
ceased, and it feels at least five, sometimes ten, degrees colder than are
measured inland a ways.
Except for
the high-rises, it can look like Maine, lighthouse and all. Florida lighthouses I have seen look much
better from a distance then up close.
They are none of the European/New England cute stone fortresses, but
rather squat black iron water towers braced by utilitarian ugly black iron
beams. Post-civil war military
utilitarian aesthetic. That period gave
us the Brooklyn Bridge, the Eiffel Tower, a lot of historic New York and Paris,
but passed Florida by. Of course,
almost nobody lived here until the 1920’s, it was truly a wilderness zone.
Sun-
Sun-
Sign at
(private _ $2 to get on) Lauderdale pier reads “sea turtle nesting,” and
countless signs along the main highway advise that street lights are dimmed during the nesting
period. Turtles are an ancient order,
although not nearly so ancient as the jellyfish which are one of their main
food sources. Ocean warming and possibly
pollution have dramatically increased the jellyfish supply, and perhaps the
turtles are rebounding as well. Humans
may be a silver lining for a few creatures beyond cockroaches, rats, and
seagulls!
We have an
odd place in our heart for turtles.
They’re not exactly cute, but they seem about the least threatening
objects around. Nobody has nightmares of
being pursued by a giant tortoise, nor dreads being locked in a dark closet
with a sea turtle. We don’t worry about
falling overboard and finding one swimming toward us, and even the most
ingenious and bloodthirsty cultures and rulers have unable to work them into
torture. I wish them health, although
I’ve never seen a live one outside a zoo or aquarium, and probably never
will.
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