Christmas winds. I'd never heard that term until I moved to the islands; it is a phrase that works into the subconscious, especially during sultry summer days. It brings freshness, clean clothes on the line freshness, toppling me out of my heat torpor. Straight out the door.
On a walk, one of those that have no end point so you might as well keep on going, these are a few of the things I saw.
|Good morning, moon!|
|The noble ani. Squawk.|
|Probably my favorite stretch of road on Culebra. Most of the time.|
|If this isn't Culebra, there isn't a Culebra. Which might be entirely possible.|
|But so is this.|
Have a mark your time Monday. Do something makeshift.