Miami was a dream in which I was a mermaid, drifting in the humid strata between sky and sea, living like a mermaid on raw (or nearly raw) fish: a sugar cane tuna lollipop at OLA, shrimp tiraditos at Sra. Martinez, smoked marlin tacos and myriad ceviches here and there. The sunfaded wonderland of South Beach was the pastel backdrop to my dream, which became even more surreal when a pal from Whitby rode by on a tour bus with his family and spotted Pat and I on Washington Avenue outside the 11th Street Diner. Should've gotten off the bus, John! We could have used help finishing the massive omelettes they served us.
Back in Toronto, going to sleep to rain, waking to rain, checking the computer this morning to find that Yahoo's first piece of news was the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. The "new" South Gyre is feared to be even bigger, truly the stuff nightmares are made of. I'll spend this morning sorting through my hundreds of bright, pleasant trip photos and remembering my Miami dream.
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