a parade of clouds soaring over the back yard, Buck island, and the iridescent sea.
Closing your eyes you're caressed by a constant, cool, breeze. To my right, perky bananaquits peck at sugar in colorful calabash gourds.
On the left, thirty miles north, is the faint outline of St. Thomas.
But I'll write a bit more. We're spending a week with friends living 1100 miles southeast of Miami. Peter and Martha left the Grove for this affordable view on the island of St. Croix.
It's a U.S. territory so the transition is easy, three hours by jet, no passport required. Both of our buddies are charter boat captains. Former attorneys, they decided they'd rather take people sailing rather than sue them.
Dinner might be the bull dolphin Peter speared in the deep water offshore. "Once you get below 40 feet", he told us yesterday, "you hear the whales. Their voices carry for miles".
Last night we went to a nearby resort to play Disco Bingo. After every game, a DJ amped up the dance music and we took to the floor. Yes, it was different but we were participating in something everyone on the island seemed to enjoy. All ages and races were represented. Somebody won a thousand bucks.
There's a lot of drinking going on in St. Croix, most of it is rain. The island's fresh water is collected by rooftops and is stored in cisterns below. Rain tastes delicious. Nearby distilleries mix it with molasses to make rum. That's good too.
We could use more island friendliness in the States. Both friends and strangers greet you here with a wave and a smile. Drivers too. That's a habit I could live with.
Another one would be enjoying the outdoors more and staring at screens less.
Unless of course, the screen is a door, beckoning you to step out for the next island adventure.