Invigorating morning trimming old branches from Texas Sable palms out back with chain saw.  As they grow the lower branches die, leaving broken off stubs in a cross-hatch pattern circling the trunk.  Ultimately these decay even more when trimmed close, and fall off, leaving a relatively smooth trunk.   These rascals can grow up to 60 feet or more.  The saw palmettos, from which the dubious medicinal berry is extracted, stay close to the ground and spread horizontally.  And don’t ever try to dig one up without a back-hoe.  The big root ball of this sucker goes down about four feet and weighs a ton.  Guess that’s how they endure the harsh environment.  Washed windows on the north side after that.  Hadn’t used the hose in a while, and when we turned it on a Brown Anole shot out on a column of water, and landed, dazed and confused, some 20 feet away.  Hilarious.

Anoles can do some goofy stuff.  I saw this one from the house last summer and went out back to investigate.  He had somehow gotten his head stuck between the fronds of a palmetto, and was, for all intents and purposes, dead.  I took a few photos, naturally, then released him.  He was limp in my hand at first, mouth gaping, but then revived and leapt onto another palmetto. The always entertaining Anole.  Look for one near you.

Startled a young black snake as I was coming out of the studio.  He shot off into the almost- ready-to-bloom beach sunflowers near the house so fast I didn’t get a good look at him. Everything becoming active now. Took a nice leisurely low tide walk on the beach then settled into chair on the front deck for a little sun time.  A tiny flying beetle circled, then landed on my arm, and struggled with the forest of sun-lit hair there.  He was black, with iridescent green streaks on the carapace where the sun hit. Very small, very intact, very complete.  He flew off and I’ll probably never see him again.

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Somnolence is a great word.  It is defined as the quality or state of being drowsy. We like that.  And while we are a little too far north to claim Tropical Somnolence, which is endemic to whole populations, we did experience the first symptoms this afternoon of Subtropical Sun-induced Somnolence, which, experience tells us, will increase incrementally and in direct proportion to the rise in temperature.  It manifests as a kind of daze, somewhere between laziness and stupor, though meaningless tasks are possible, (no heavy machinery, please) and long, escapist mind wandering unavoidable.  We live for this condition.  We don’t know how we were ever able to go to work and function through it, though, as luck would have it, Papa frequently had hospice patients to see on Skinny Island, and was able to duck into the little hacienda for a nap on occasion, which saved him. Truth be told, and contrary to the Protestant Ethic, Sun-induced Somnolence is not something, like a cold or flu, to be worked through.  It is to be given over to, wholly and without reservation.  Lizards understand this; snakes, cats certainly, and even some dogs understand this.  We see people pass by all the time who mistakenly have undertaken a walk to the convenience store while in the grip of Sun-induced Somnolence, and it is a painful thing to watch.  Give it up.  There is a Somnolence-shaped hole in everyone.  Let go and let Somnolence.

It should also be noted that acceptance of this way of life is dependent on a disdain for air-conditioning, which is the kill-joy, the death-knell of Sun-induced Somnolence.  Growing up without A/C in either homes or schools in Florida, we learned to embrace Somnolence as children, and that has served us well in later years.  We run the air when people come over– not unexpectedly an infrequent occurrence– and must remain relatively alert and conversant.  I am relating this now, in the early stages of Sun-induced Somnolence, because in a month, and certainly thereafter, I won’t be able to.  I have to go now.

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