The saltwater was the perfect treatment for the blisters I got from wearing the wrong shoes for a walk on the Old Seven Mile Bridge in the Florida Keys that I had been planning for weeks to mark my 65th birthday.
It is so like me to have one detail wrong so what I end up remembering, in this case the utterly sublime and priceless experience of walking on a strip of concrete high above where the Atlantic Ocean and the Florida Bay meet, where you can see tarpon and dolphins and watch the old fishing boats and a few gleaming yachts beneath you, instead of the glory filling the whole frame of the birthday picture, there are the blisters.
Sitting here, writing this, I watch a woman my age walking by the patio of our hotel room in Islamorada. She is wearing white pants and a striped shirt, black…
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