Less foggy this morning than yesterday, and only 60F degrees so it was pleasant meandering our usual trek. Also let us ignore how I seem to be enamored with the word “trek” lately…
It was a clear view across the pond (Lake Ella is not a lake but a pond, nearly a puddle in truth), and that caught me short. It is usually not a clear view unless you part through the trees or walk out on the gazebo jetty. It occurred to me that this is why I love winter months so dearly: the majority (never all) of the leaves have fallen and I can see through trees which are, the rest of the year, a blockade of foliage.
I am not a tropical girl, and have never liked living in Florida much. One reason, I now realize, is that the flatness of it combined with the heavy drapery of green shortens the view. I admire, and crave, vistas. I want to stretch my vision as far as it can go. It is one reason I love heights — top of the tower, the building, the mountain. I want to see everything.
But here in Florida I am hemmed in by the trees and the bushes and the palmettos about nine months out of the year.
(I will leave aside, for the moment, why I’ve lived in this accursed state for nigh 35 years if I dislike it so much…)
Keely was not as distracted by smells this morning as yesterday, she took a far more leisurely stroll, but still cut over the village green to get back to the path next to the pond. This is a stretch we normally miss, going through the cottages and over the green around to the far road (which takes us by the coffeeshop I refuse to visit and the American Legion). Sometimes she wants to inspect that path, sometimes not. I often wonder if it is a specific dog she’s tracking, on those days.
We also saw a fox darting across the road from the park to the houses across the way. They come to steal duck eggs, and given that the ducks are randy again going into spring, I suspect a feast is to be had right now. Still, I do not see the foxes often, every few weeks at most. They are sly mf.