I like that. Heaven's Waiting Room. A new (to me) nickname for Florida. I also like the alternate name for the Gulf Coast: The Redneck Riviera. Anyhow, it doesn't feel much like the Florida with which I was familiar, i.e. the really warm one.
All the same, it's great. John and I drove to Dunedin this beautiful, sunny afternoon and walked from the small-town downtown to the coast. (Bay? Whatever. Big body of water.) Entertained there by a placid pelican who was entirely comfortable around human beings. He stood on a rail casually taking in the passing parade.
Or at least that's what I thought he was doing because he was turned half away from the water. Sunning himself after lunch, perhaps, and observing the curious creatures so unlike him.
As always, he turned out to be a far better fisherman than any hairless bipeds with poles, lines, and hooks and, they think, superior intelligence. We walked to another part of the pier where a man casted for a few minutes, then gave up his spot and moved elsewhere.
We started to leave. We saw Mr. Pelican on the surface of the water with his pouch distended, obviously consuming a catch. As we were leaving, he flew over to the rail where the frustrated man had been.
I think I heard the bird say, "OK. Let me show you a thing or two about catching fish. Losers."
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