I walked with my feet in the warm water and treated myself to a sand-pedicure. When I came off the beach, Cuban music drifted out of the restaurant called "Havana." My feet were sanded smooth. I put on my shoes and walked home.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Twilight: South Beach
At seven-thirty last night, the horizon faded; the pale blue sky merged with blue water. In the far north, when the horizon disappeared, and Inuit kayakers could not tell the difference between sea and sky, they would often come down with kayak sickness, a gentle term. Kayak sickness meant losing one's mind. No danger of losing the horizon here in South Beach. Just fix your eyes on the people in the distance; in this case, a model and a fashion assistant waiting for the photographer to load up his camera. If you embiggen the picture below, you will see that the assistant is holding up a reflecting disc to shine more light on the model, as if she needed it--not with that torch of a wig.