TURNING A FEW HEADS ON MIAMI'S BISCAYNE BAY

I was simply enjoying the view along Miami’s Biscayne Bay  . . .

It was such a tranquil scene of beauty.

. . . when Iggy sauntered onto the scene like he owned the place. 

Iggy and his friends started showing up in Florida in the '60s. They now number in the tens of thousands.

He was a gorgeous specimen; I’ll give him that.  Dressed to the nines and his hair all slicked back, he was an exotic mixture of funky and cocky. 

Iggy's beautiful shade of orange indicates he's on the prowl for a mate. He was sniffing out his options.

I was both intrigued and intimidated by his presence.

We gave each other the once over, pretending not to care, absorbed as we were in weighing our options.  

As these exotic pets grew bigger than the family dog, they were often left to fend for themselves in the wild.

He didn’t really look the strong, silent type flaunting that orange mohawk.  I played coy, waiting for him to make the first move.  I wasn’t about to make any moves.  Even as a married women, I'd like to think I can still turn a few heads from time to time.

He didn’t take his eyes off me for at least sixty seconds; nor I him.   The chemistry was there, if my rapid heartbeat, sweaty palms and weak knees were any indication.  I’ll admit, after all these years of marriage, I'm a little rusty when it comes to chemistry.  

Alas, he went on his way, and I mine; far, far away in opposite directions. 

He was gone, but definitely not forgotten.

As they say, opposites attract! 

I rather liked leaving the moment, and my memories, with little more than what might have been.