We rented bikes and rode seven miles down the Legacy Trail toward Venice. We wore flip-flops every day, although Gabe didn’t have any and wore shoes and socks, but he felt that it was chilly a lot of the time anyway, so that was okay. We basked in the healing rays of the sun, under layers of sunscreen because one time we got second degree sunburns and that was enough for one lifetime. We found treasures, so many shells, and one day a local showed me where to stand in water up to my waist so that I could feel with my feet where the conchs washed in and were not broken yet by the surf. We walked on the beach and some of us swam, even though nobody else considered the water warm enough it was fine once you got wet. We went to the fruit market and bought grapefruit and oranges and strawberries and honeydew and tomatoes and avocados and key limes and lemons and cabbage and lettuce and peppers and one enormous watermelon, all of them dead ripe and local. We looked at the weather forecast and tried to make plans, tried not to be dismayed at five days of rain forecast during our stay. We were welcomed by my parents, hugs all around, supper ready for us, and my uncle’s house (which used to be my grandma’s house) prepared for our stay. We spent just a bit over a week in Florida, that land of abundant sunshine and generous breezes.
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