Just back from a week in Puerto Rico where sun, rum, wind and sea swept through my hair to streak it almost blond, disguising the gray of my soul as well.
These pigeons in a park in Old San Juan were just one of the surprises of our visit. Thankfully devoid of the cruise ship tourists who turned the old part of the city into a day light nightmare. The bad clothes, the loud mouths... need I say more? The only thing worse than running into Americans in more exotic and distant lands is being in the midst of their swarm this close to home, and in a culture that could be so interesting if it weren't for the fact that Americanization is everywhere, in such large part due to the fact that most Americans want an American experience no matter where there are. Thankfully pigeon parks are full of droppings, which keeps your average American at bay.
Larry discovered a lovely little bronze sculpture here as well. The site overlooked San Juan harbor, and one could just feel the presence of a father and his small son standing there holding hands, looking out to the sea in an earlier time.
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