Evenings

Most evenings I walk down the length of Sunset Boulevard (a stroll of four minutes) to the sidewalk by Tampa Bay, and walk out to the point where there are a few park benches. Sometimes there is a sunset which recalls John Hiatt’s terrific line,

there’s a lipstick sunset, smeared across the August sky.

Sometimes I take a travel container of tea and I sit and look across the bay towards Clearwater and St. Pete’s. I watch the planes arriving and departing from TPA. This is really fun. I have come up with games to test my ability to focus, complete with made-up terms for the aircraft and where they are – altitude, direction. The idea is for me to focus on a departing plane until it disappears into the wild blue yonder, and this turns out to be a very difficult game. Firstly, I have the concentration span of a gnat. Secondly, while I am tracking a plane, part of the game is to be aware of what else is in the sky, and when I look away from my primary plane, if it is far away and small, I may lose it in a cloud. When it gets truly dark, the game changes a bit; it is much easier to spot aircraft high and far because their slow strobe lights show up much better. Is there a computer game where you get to push tin? There’s got to be!

Down below sometimes the water has a bit of a chop onto her but most often there is Cole Porter’s still of the evening. Mullet jump. Sometimes there is a much bigger splash and in the dark it is easy to imagine all sorts of things. A big splash would not be a manatee: they stick only their snouts above the surface, and snort loudly when they do. I have not seen a dolphin make a big splash, only seen their dorsal fins as they silent and smooth rise up and dip down (once in moonlight, which was lovely).

Very often there is a heron, blue grey, sturdier than the herons of home, just standing there near me, watching for the moon or stars. Very good company.