Siesta, circle, stars

Siesta Key, one of the barrier islands outlying Sarasota, is a 90 minute drive from here. A string of beaches hug the western shore, including Siesta Beach itself, home of a popular Drum Circle, and a hop from Birdie's old house in Sarasota. She was in town, out of Indianapolis, for a bit of R & R in her old stomping grounds. We met up on Sunday for dinner and then hit the beach where Birdie's sister Douglas awaited us with a blanket and brownies.

I found a delicious little Inn at Turtle Beach, that was my base camp for the three day outing, on the south end of the island...

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The inn sits on a lagoon off Turtle Beach.

A koi pond is on the left, a barbeque grill, and the docks to the right. Kayaks and canoes were available for guests, and a few bikes.

The view from the dock. The beach is just beyond the dunes.

I made myself at home. A couple, a striking blond trophy and her humpy cigar-chomping hubby/boyfriend, were the only other guests. I saw them only once.

You'd have to play Art Garfunkel's '99 Miles From L.A.' approximately
20.02020202020202 times...

Twin hammocks, Gill.

Apres le swim.

When Birdie saw the bed she said that there should be a throne to go with it. I thought the bed was something of a throne all by itself.

Tommy Bahama seems to be the presiding influence.

View from the room.

There are few sensations nicer than changing into dry clothes after a swim.

Birdie's sister Douglas recommended the Turtle Beach Pub for dinner. Come to find out it was just two blocks from my inn. Coincidence? I think not.

I made the busy waitress to take our picture. She promptly took an attitude.

Did I mention that we had a wonderful time? Birdie had obtained a cobalt blue Sebring convertible for her visit. So after the Drum Circle, we went island-hopping far into the breezy cool night. She had just minted a wonderful collection of CDs for her trip. A scion, it turns out, of this most cultivated of Florida cities, Birdie knows her way around Sarasota like I know my way around my dashboard. An avid astronomer, she pointed out the constellation of Orion (he's the guy with the star-studded belt) in the western skies off Lido Beach. We parked to star-gaze, Brian Eno swirling subliminally around us, and speculate about the human condition. She's going to blog one day soon.

Earlier, at the Drum Circle, my inner pagan was itching to arise and make a statement. But my outer journalist was on a different page...

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