"I come down and talk to me"-J.Buffett (when the coast is clear)

this time of year is referred to as the "shoulder season".Much like jimmies song as the season closes my island that I live on begins to settle down. Its during this time that most of us locals comment on how quickly the year has passed.It always does. From a quite population of around 10,000 to the summer population of,at times, a quarter of a million people on an island 1 1/12 x 5 miles long.
during this time of year when we are given back our beaches and roads and the weather holds,its time for our yearly reflection and for me this year it is accompanied by a Henry clay. those of you who follow me know that this has been a staple of mine for over 20 years.
    this summer has gone by and quickly for me despite being retired. I settled  back into my wicker rocker on the porch and clipped my lumpy and bumpy Henry. These have never been the prettiest cigar and almost never in the round,well they are round about and often triangular. They like the seasons here have stood the test of time and peoples tastes.Some times a popular smoke/destination and other years not so much. however one thing can be said for both;they never disappoint. for the Henry Clay there is the consistent medium (strong medium) bodie and almost full flavor of pepper and smoked almonds and earth. for the island its the sandy white beaches and,roller coasters and coconut oiled sun worshiper by day and relaxed down island par- tier at night.
as the temps drop into the high seventies and the humid tempest of summer passes into the cool breeze of autumn I puff away watching the smoke tendrils drift up only to those breezes and dissipate into the ether. The roasted almonds and pepper backed with a toothy  maduro Connecticut wrapper go well with my mood and the atmosphere that is the locals summer.Like an old friend I say hi to myself and think back over the changes and the hustle and bustle of the last 9 months.I find its time to peel the band of as I'm closing in on the nub-ing this one and with that a familiar song comes to mind from another guy who lived on an island and wrote a song that plays out in my mind.......

'so tell me all your troubles
I'll surely tell you mine
we'll laugh and smoke and cuss and joke
and have a Glass of wine

(its the only place he knows)
where it always happens
same place every year
I still come down to talk to me
when the coast is clear"
J. Buffett

ALL THE BEST(and finz up parrott heads)-SMOKINJOE