From the great multicultural island nation of the Conch Republic:
Sunday June 15, 2003 - One and a quarter mile of rainbow colors unfurled. From sea to shining sea. From one end of Duval Street to the other. In the heart of Old Town Here you have it
And here too. I expect.
Views from various outposts:
The Top and
Duval Street Cams
In any case, I salute you Key West. And I dedicate my little tribute ditty below to you, as well as to one specific reader. This one reader will know who they are so it's not important to identify them. That said, this post becomes, I suppose, a kind of riddle. It contains six words that offer the key that expands the riddle. One reader will almost certainly recognize the six word combination. The reference is cryptic, so if you go looking for it and don't find it immediately, don't worry, it's almost certainly not meant for you to find. Its a riddle which is meant for only one, for there is only one answer, and only one question. For everyone else the riddle itself is unimportant. Meaningless. For the one reader who recognizes the six words this will obviously unlock a larger mystery. A labyrinth of sorts. A kind of time labyrinth. But in this case the labyrinth is finite. Its a small world afterall.
Heres to you KW.
Heres to bikes with baskets and oversized tires - and to beer and fritters and midnight conch flyers - and birds in the food palace, and cats with six toes - and that one Wilhelmina who everyone knows / Heres to the cookie lady, and the old full-moon saloon - and heres to dog beach, and breakfast at noon, - and all of the chickens that harry couldn't shoot - and cab rides at dawn to buy some more toot / And heres even to scorpions, on paths in the rain - and the luminous shimmer of bougainvillea's refrain, - and heres to blue heaven's twined watery shoals - heres to the outcasts, outlaws, and castadrift souls / Heres to the green parrot and old calabash lounge - heres to the old pigeon house, and old south white-house grounds, - and to the ghosts in the gardens, hid behind old-town's walls - and the winds from the seas, and flash summer squalls / Heres to blues-bands and red-heads and afternoon teas - and the sounds of the crickets and frogs in the trees, - heres to islands and reefs and the tropical sun - heres to Key West at the end of route 1.
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Once again, I salute you Key West. You're quite a character. Long live the Southernmost City! And long live the memory of all of these sisters and brothers and mothers and fathers and friends. Once sentient, but lifted away from us here. Each lifted up to an elegant canopy, suspended above an oasis, before a sunset - twinkling lights in a beautiful southern sky.
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