Monday, July 5, 2010
Between tropical downpours and gale-ing winds, we walked through the Botanic Gardens, encountering these blue-faced iguanas, who were out in search of sun. It is a raw place, an island upon which the legacy of a once-ago hurricane is still read in the twist of palm trees and the discouraged fronds. Cayman parrots, high in trees, depart in arresting twosomes of brilliant green and beak orange.
In my mind, all this time, I am reconfiguring a novel. Finding my way back in. There are editors who care. There is an editor who has asked.