Swept away



With the wildfire now doused and dissolved, clear skies have returned to the Cape.

The Florida peninsula, its ribald sea-lapped profile laid supine like the beachgoers it draws, is ever swept by airs both absolving and calamitous. As resilient as it is ravaged, this ancient pile of shells is once again basking in errant showers under hot blue skies.

And that's the charm and danger of this tropical tabula rasa. It is as dazed and forgetful of yesterday's brushfires and tomorrow's hurricanes, as are the sandpipers on the shore of the alligators in the reeds. But my little beach is still a bike ride away.