A warm beach, clear, blue water, lapping waves, palm trees and cool drinks under an umbrella.

Looking out at the crystal snow falling in the below-zero air, I shiver in spite of the roar of our furnace trying to keep out the cold. A February winter’s day in Colorado, not unlike the last few and the week yet to come.

Shortly I’ll bundle up and go sweep the fine snow off the walks, unless my energetic and wonderful wife or neighbors get to it first. The dog and cats approached the open door with trepidation this morning and only the dog was silly enough to go out — but she had the sense to do her business quickly and come back into the warmth (probably to crawl onto the bed with the still-sleeping aforementioned).

An overcast sky has prevented the sun from showing up so far, so it’s a grey day — too cold to do much at all outside, and making me disinclined to work up much energy here where I’m warm and sipping hot coffee.

The idea of a trip to someplace warm (see above) has come up and I like the idea, but this whole pandemic thing has me a little bugged. Last October we drove to Oregon to join friends on a (cold and wet) beach, and the lack of basic precautions by the people we saw along the way was unnerving. Driving across Wyoming, Idaho and Oregon reinforced my negative opinions about human nature. Air travel seems daunting, even dangerous, spending hours sealed up in a steel box with a couple of hundred others at 35,000 feet and mingling with the hoards at terminals at each end.

I’m also skeptical about mingling with people at the destination, probably a foreign country full of tourists from across the world. Worse, it could be in Florida, a state so full of crazies that even their Governor and Public Health Director think the pandemic is some political hoax.

A steel drum tinkles in the background under the palapa next to the pool. The water’s just cool enough to feel refreshing after lying in the sun for a while, and the waiter brings you another cold cerveza. Slowly the sun sets over the horizon, lighting up the clouds in fantastical colors mirrored across the sea’s surface. The relative chill motivates me to get up, change out of my shorts and tee shirt and put on something cleaner, maybe even a polo shirt and jeans. We’ll have some exotic dinner next to the pool, accompanied by exotic drinks — perhaps even containing small umbrellas. The night sounds surround you as you head off to bed.

Maybe the next day we’ll take one of those scuba trips out to a nearby reef or jump on a party boat headed out deeper for fishing. We could just wander the local market place and have lunch at a rustic local eatery that isn’t too full of tourists. There are some local ruins to visit, though I’m unclear whether they are old missions or ancient forts.

On the other hand, just lying about on the beach or by the pool is a pretty inviting idea, too.

It’s snowing harder now and has climbed up to one degree. Maybe the sweeping can wait a while.