Nomad Exquisite

As the immense dew of Florida
Brings forth
The big-finned Palm
And green vine angering for life,

As the immense dew of Florida
Brings forth hymn and hymn
From the beholder,
Beholding all these green sides,

And blessed mornings,
Meet for the eye of the young alligator,
And lightening colors
So, in me, come flinging
Forms, Flames, and the flakes of flames.

-Wallace Stevens-



I spent the better part of last week washing, weeding, pruning, mulching, painting, planting; fixing the landscape lighting, scrubbing the patio pavers and the pool screen. You'd think I could take a few hours and sit in the sun and enjoy my little paradise and the two new bronzes we installed last week, but no: there will be no Sunday breakfast by the pool, no afternoon tea in the sea breeze -- that immense dew came blowing in at 40 miles per hour, dumping 13 inches of rain, littering everything with palm fronds and tree branches and leaves; flinging flakes of vegetation and patio furniture, toppling flowerpots and shaking the house so that I haven't slept in two days.

In Florida, we don't bother to give such little storms names. Those without boats to worry about, getting up before dawn to run down the road to the club and add extra spring lines and fenders, for those it's just another weekend without Golf watching football; another weekend with lightening colors like night club strobe lights and cannonades of thunder on long, sleepless nights of relentless wind where tall palms wave like sea grass in a shallow lagoon.

You can hear the surf in the interlude between the wind gusts, the angry Atlantic eating away at immense Florida, knowing it's only a matter of time, hymn and plangent hymn as it eats the land.