Miami Dreams

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.

Ground Control to Major Tom

I never leave the house without my camera. This morning, though, preoccupied by thoughts of how Hurricane Bill might impact my trip to South Beach, I ran out to the bank leaving it on the charger.
Halfway there, I saw two kids let go of a foil balloon that rose, glittering, against the sky. I was tickled for a moment, watching it drift up in a lazy spiral. It seemed a space oddity, like a model space station in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was digging for the forgotten camera when I remembered the Great Pacific Garbage Patch and all the horror and disbelief I felt when I first heard of it.
In case you haven't, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch is a vast mass of debris (primarily plastic like bags, six-pack rings, toys, balloons, etc. caught in tangled webs of "ghost", or lost, fishing nets) swept together by the currents of the North Pacific Gyre. A whole new garbage "continent" estimated to be twice the size of Texas. TWICE THE SIZE OF TEXAS!
And if the toxins leaching out of it are not scary enough, a little light reading on the subject of nurdles should get you crying in no time.
We need major ground control, Tom (and everyone else)! No matter where in the world a plastic bag or bit of packaging, wrapper or bottle cap fall into the street, it eventually finds its way by sewer, river, lake and ocean currents into the Pacific. The smaller the scraps, the more mobile they are. Please bother to bend and pick up any pieces of plastic, vinyl or mylar you spot and dispose of them carefully. Not to be preachy, but just thinking about the GPGP makes me sick.
Sure, I like to discover continents new to me but not if they've been formed out of garbage. I'll be thinking of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch--and ordering my mojito without a straw--when I'm on the beach in Miami.