It is hard to imagine that Christmas is tomorrow when it is 69 degrees F and sunny in Miami. The changes of season are so subtle it has taken me three years to even notice anything, and often I miss it. Just when I think the toads have gone to hibernate and that it is too cool to swim, the pool fills up with kids splashing, and the pathways seem littered with dark hopping creatures. Again. Parrots swoop in and vultures hover. Large brown and green anoles duck under banana leaves. Dragonflies poise themselves on top of palm spikes. A siren blares from the highway. Another day in paradise, as the saying goes.
But Michael and I are determined to relate the extreme nuances of a tropical winter. We are missing all our friends and family up north. There is something inside of us that craves the "white winter" of songs. Some of our neighbors have dangled lights from their balconies and lined their window ledges with white cottony "snow". Cars in the parking lot are festooned in reindeer antlers and red button noses. We are all trying to do the conjure thing...
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