These last few days it's been unbearably hot. The last thing I'd want to do is be sitting here all day; unless of course I had nonstop margaritas. The image is a redo of a photo I processed six-years ago. Because the tools and my techniques change so much, I like to redevelop images to contrast and compare to my former self. There's no right and wrong, just different ways to see the same thing. As we head into the middle of summer, I am looking forward to some downtime under a tiki hut sipping a frosty little drink with an umbrella. Umbrellas in glasses are a crucial element for survival in harsh environments. This is an important fact you may wish to remember. You're welcome.
The reflections along the Hillsborough River are entirely peaceful. That is until you realize alligators lurk just below the surface. But if I was an alligator, this seems like the perfect place to live. I'm living in a state park, I don't get harassed, there are plenty of turtles to munch, and I don't have to get stuck in someone's pool and have my jaws taped shut. In reality, alligators have it hard. Only a small percentage make it to maturity. The most energetic, most intelligent among them live out their full lives. And the luckiest of those are living here in these beautiful parks.
Docks are kind of a big thing here; everybody seems to have one. Dock Life is the new Salt Life; only you don't get wet. Not that I know the first thing about docks or salt. I'm one of three people that doesn't have one. Most of the docks in Florida are private, and they have No Trespassing signs posted. That's a shame, but I suppose it makes sense. Anyway, some of the best are public, like this one in Longboat Key. It's next to a couple of restaurants so you can dock the boat and have dinner. Near my home is a commercial marina with a couple of hundred yachts. It's also next to a restaurant, appropriately named Dockside Grill.
