Day 27: Port Charlotte

SUNDAY. I'm safely home at last, after a minor traffic blip in our travel today that set us back 35 minutes. An SUV left the Interstate, flipped, and rolled a few times, landing on the merge ramp leaving a rest area. Traffic leaving the rest area was blocked. The general consensus was that the driver had fallen asleep. I guess he was too badly injured to explain what happened.

While we waited for the road to be cleared, we chatted with people standing next to their cars. A few miles before we stopped, we noticed a Penske truck stopped at an rental truck inspection station on I-75 south of I-10, the back end open and contents visible. I caught up with the driver at the rest area during our unplanned extended stop. The back end was again open and I recognized the contents. I asked him what the inspectors were looking for. "Illegal aliens," he replied.

Florida is quite beautiful at this time of year. The winter crowds have gone north, the heavy rains have ushered in dripping green velvet on the ground and in trees, and the summer storm clouds and light are dramatic in the early evening. This is a wonderful place to vacation, but I find it difficult to live here year round. It's hard to work when everyone else is either retired or on vacation.

It's been a long trip and there are bags strewn all over the dining room begging to be unpacked. Tomorrow I'll unpack. Tonight I only want to look at the big frog on the front door, listen to the evening insects chirp, and walk in the tropical night air.