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NOTES FROM LOWER KEYS
Hold onto the thread
the currents will shift
Guide me towards you
know something is left
from "Oceans"
by Pearl Jam
1 - Coming in Low
When the clouds finally broke, we were coming in low over islands and reefs and the shallow chop of wind-pushed waves. When I thought about it later, it seemed only the water had held any color, a composition in shades of green passing rapidly below.
We touched down and walked quickly through the small terminal. Outside, the passengers soon dispersed in taxis, hotel vans and island limos. A few, presumably locals, left in mostly old, mostly beaten, private cars. It was four-thirty in the afternoon.
The van to our hotel was later than the rest. For a while, I stood outside the terminal, uncomfortable in the clothes I'd worn for this flight out of winter in the northeast.
Turning off a short stretch of highway, the van zig-zagged through several turns on narrow city streets. Josephine, Atlantic, White Street. Casa Marina, Royal, South Street. This was "Old Town," the driver said, the destination of most tourists.
"Welcome to Key West," he said.
2 - Duval Street
In Key West, we walked the length of Duval Steet, and back, every day except the first. Two weeks before Christmas, the streets weren't as crowded as they would be just a week closer to the holiday. There were tourists, of course, but the pace of it was leisurely. Still, it could've been whatever we wanted it to be and we chose for it to be leisurely.
We walked together through the small shops, some of which held little more than post cards and souvenier hats and tee shirts. The things we bought said, "This is where we were and this is what we did," the first-time visitor's "proof of life," I guess.
At the south end of Duval, there were small restaurants in almost every block. A number of them offered outdoor dining, with tables and chairs set on concrete slabs next to the building. Others were more elaborate, with raised wooden decks sheltered by canvas awnings. Either way, the food was always good, and reasonably priced in the off-season.
One day, a little past noon, we resumed our walk after breakfasting at one of these. About halfway to the next cross street, we heard the unmistakeable "hu-wump!" of crumpling sheetmetal and the simultaneous screech of tires and brakes.
At the next corner, a crowd of onlookers had already gathered. Halfway into the intersection, but angled slightly into the cross street, sat a shiney, new KW police cruiser, its front fender caved in and body trim littering the pavement around it. Just past the stop sign, where it had emerged from the side street, was another new car with four young teens who looked like they might've been hurrying back to class after an off-campus lunch.
It appeared there were no injuries and the young cop, who had a lean and healthy look about him, was already directing traffic around the wreck. His body language and demeanor said, "Hey, happens every day, kids. Things'll work out." The teens looked doubtful.
If time had stopped, the whole scene frozen around him, the young cop might've paused, momentarily, shaken his head and quietly laughed. As it was, he had a job to do and was far too professional, or too good a person, maybe, for that.
As we walked away, I hoped that life would treat him well. That his own confidence, his positive regard for self and others, would never be shaken by the pain and litter of a life or career or relationship shattered around him.
3 - In This Light
The cruise ship turned up channel in the pre-dawn light. From its ten or twelve stories of cabin windows, lights blazed. On the great expanse of water, between the channel and the beachfront hotel, there were few waves.
In this light, how did they find the channel? Were they guided in by pilot craft? Sight along the line of buoys? Take depth soundings with sonar? All, or none, of these?
While this was happening, I was still asleep. A stranger, who'd been sleeping next to me, walked out on the fifth floor balcony, smoked a cigarette, and later reported having seen these things.
There was a camera, somewhere in the luggage, but no pictures were taken. I trust her enough to believe that this is what she saw.
L.P. Knickerbocker
LiveJournal
6.16.2006
(the compilation)
Hold onto the thread
the currents will shift
Guide me towards you
know something is left
from "Oceans"
by Pearl Jam
1 - Coming in Low
When the clouds finally broke, we were coming in low over islands and reefs and the shallow chop of wind-pushed waves. When I thought about it later, it seemed only the water had held any color, a composition in shades of green passing rapidly below.
We touched down and walked quickly through the small terminal. Outside, the passengers soon dispersed in taxis, hotel vans and island limos. A few, presumably locals, left in mostly old, mostly beaten, private cars. It was four-thirty in the afternoon.
The van to our hotel was later than the rest. For a while, I stood outside the terminal, uncomfortable in the clothes I'd worn for this flight out of winter in the northeast.
Turning off a short stretch of highway, the van zig-zagged through several turns on narrow city streets. Josephine, Atlantic, White Street. Casa Marina, Royal, South Street. This was "Old Town," the driver said, the destination of most tourists.
"Welcome to Key West," he said.
2 - Duval Street
In Key West, we walked the length of Duval Steet, and back, every day except the first. Two weeks before Christmas, the streets weren't as crowded as they would be just a week closer to the holiday. There were tourists, of course, but the pace of it was leisurely. Still, it could've been whatever we wanted it to be and we chose for it to be leisurely.
We walked together through the small shops, some of which held little more than post cards and souvenier hats and tee shirts. The things we bought said, "This is where we were and this is what we did," the first-time visitor's "proof of life," I guess.
At the south end of Duval, there were small restaurants in almost every block. A number of them offered outdoor dining, with tables and chairs set on concrete slabs next to the building. Others were more elaborate, with raised wooden decks sheltered by canvas awnings. Either way, the food was always good, and reasonably priced in the off-season.
One day, a little past noon, we resumed our walk after breakfasting at one of these. About halfway to the next cross street, we heard the unmistakeable "hu-wump!" of crumpling sheetmetal and the simultaneous screech of tires and brakes.
At the next corner, a crowd of onlookers had already gathered. Halfway into the intersection, but angled slightly into the cross street, sat a shiney, new KW police cruiser, its front fender caved in and body trim littering the pavement around it. Just past the stop sign, where it had emerged from the side street, was another new car with four young teens who looked like they might've been hurrying back to class after an off-campus lunch.
It appeared there were no injuries and the young cop, who had a lean and healthy look about him, was already directing traffic around the wreck. His body language and demeanor said, "Hey, happens every day, kids. Things'll work out." The teens looked doubtful.
If time had stopped, the whole scene frozen around him, the young cop might've paused, momentarily, shaken his head and quietly laughed. As it was, he had a job to do and was far too professional, or too good a person, maybe, for that.
As we walked away, I hoped that life would treat him well. That his own confidence, his positive regard for self and others, would never be shaken by the pain and litter of a life or career or relationship shattered around him.
3 - In This Light
The cruise ship turned up channel in the pre-dawn light. From its ten or twelve stories of cabin windows, lights blazed. On the great expanse of water, between the channel and the beachfront hotel, there were few waves.
In this light, how did they find the channel? Were they guided in by pilot craft? Sight along the line of buoys? Take depth soundings with sonar? All, or none, of these?
While this was happening, I was still asleep. A stranger, who'd been sleeping next to me, walked out on the fifth floor balcony, smoked a cigarette, and later reported having seen these things.
There was a camera, somewhere in the luggage, but no pictures were taken. I trust her enough to believe that this is what she saw.
L.P. Knickerbocker
LiveJournal
6.16.2006
(the compilation)
