2011 Year of Crab and Key Lime Pie

Two sharply contrasting experiences to end 2010 and begin 2011. Last night—New Year's Eve—without any forethought or intention on our part, K and I ended up at Joe's Stone Crab restaurant in Miami Beach, in the midst of a wedding party and surrounded by people in expensive-looking glittery clothes. K's step-sister is getting married on the 2nd, and we arrived in Miami on the evening of the 30th, for my first visit to Florida. Although I've been living in the US for years now, New York City has skewed my perceptions, and I realized when I stepped off the plane in Fort Lauderdale: oh, this is what America really looks like. Of course, I quickly realized that probably half of the people in the airport were actually Canadians. Even though I was genuinely enjoying a few days of blizzard-induced snow and slush in New York, I have to admit that the weather here is really perfect: sunny, not too warm, a little breezy. A bit like a PEI summer. The final few hours of the year were a choppily-edited montage of highways, high-rise condos, artificial islands, pedestrian malls, cruise ships, traffic, and parking meters, as well as crab claws, creamed spinach, wine, key lime pie, golden plastic hats and tassled noisemakers, and conversations with wedding-goers employing diverse accents.

Today—New Year's Day—we got bagels and tea from the shop next to our hotel and walked across the South Dixie Highway to the campus of the University of Miami, which is mostly deserted for the holidays. Next to the lake in the center of campus we found a perfect spot to begin the new year: sitting at a canopy-covered swinging picnic table, watching the ducks swim and the fish jump, hearing the fountain spray and the palm trees rustle, feeling the warm sun and cool breeze, receiving the tropical wifi signal and updating the quiet, peaceful blog. It really is a serene place to be at the moment, with no one around but us and the ducks, the purported crocodiles (as advertised on a sign next to the water), a few mosquitoes, and a very vocal black cat who may have sensed our lox spread.