When the sun begins to set in a royal blue sky at the farthest tip of Key West, there is a celebration each afternoon on Mallory Square in front of the Westin Hotel, as colorful sailboats dance on the horizon. It’s a photographer’s paradise! That’s where my son Dana and I spent fall break, away from the changing leaves of Tennessee and Kentucky.

We cannot believe it’s already over and time to get back to work. It seems like only yesterday that our little prop plane landed on the tiny airstrip on the tiny island where temperatures soared into the 90s, surrounded by lush tropical trees and flowers and colorful birds.

Every afternoon there are bands playing on the boardwalk, hot chicken wings and all kinds of exotic foods sizzling on the grill ... with tall glasses of tea and lemonade to chase them down the hatch. Magicians and artists are everywhere and there are house cats jumping through rings of fire. Or you can watch men on 8-foot tall unicycles doing funny tricks, or jugglers balancing all kinds of things, five or six at a time...

If it pleases you, you can catch a catamaran, flags flying, with red, white and blue sails and drift away to the sound of a brass band on the deck into the sunset ... until the red sun ball sinks into the water in of the Gulf of Mexico, 90 miles from Cuba.

There is just something relaxing about sandy beaches beneath skies that range from pale blue to deep aquamrine in the course of a day with the white cumulus clouds drifting by in slow motion. Pelicans fly in formation and seagulls dive for fishes as distant shrimp boats can barely be seen in the distance.

After the sun goes down, Dana and I sit on the balcony and watch the full moon light up the ocean white caps on the now dark-indigo water. The roar of the ocean reminds us of the majesty of God just off the fast track.

There are no meals to cook, no beds to make, no floors to sweep, no laundry, no dishes, no ringing phones, and absolutely no demands on our time. We enjoy some relaxation from our stressful, responsibility-ridden jobs that require our undivided attention. We just need some rest every now and again ... like at least every three or four months.

It’s nice to get up early in Key West and walk the cobblestone streets as the sun rises, where Ernest Hemmingway wrote, “The Sun Also Rises,” “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and “The Old Man and The Sea.”

The roosters are standing on white picket fences crowing and welcoming the morning sunrise. They walk through the sidewalk cafes as if they own the place and they are truly government protected. Baby chickens eat crumbs under your table and mother hens enjoy whatever you will feed them.

Old men whistle a tune as they go for a morning ride on bicycles through the quiet streets. I watched the fishermen on the pier and, as my granny used to say, “I enjoy people-watching.” Some go barefoot in the sand, others sit at picnic tables and enjoy some Cuban coffee, reading a book or a newspaper.

We enjoyed some delicious seafood in some very good restaurants while we were in Key West. We rode the historical open-air conch train through the historical part of town and found it has some interesting history. There have been terrible hurricanes and some fires that nearly burned the whole island. People still want to live there, where some of the homes are 10 feet apart and where the land is terribly expensive. Tourists come from all over the world to enjoy the tropical climate and the unique atmosphere. Our visit this October ended too soon.

As we landed at Nashville airport, the cool 48 degree temperature hit us in the face and I welcomed it with open arms. I had just had an asthma attack in Key West because of room deodorants and perfumes on people ... and thought I was going to smother in the 94-degree humid heat. The heat would have been OK without the perfume odors that set off an asthma attack every time! But I’m really not a hot weather girl — 45 degrees suits me fine!

The fall leaves in Nashville were beginning to turn. I dropped my son off and headed toward Kentucky by car the next morning. I was alone but I oohed and ahhed on my drive all the way home to London because of the beauty of these mountains dressed in autumn colors, from palest yellows to burnt-orange and burnished burgundy. Sumac is the prettiest shade of red!

The Virginia Creeper vines on my redwood fences have turned pretty shades of red and gold, and my mums are purple and bright yellow, along with my cute little pansy faces with brown eyes.

This cool, fall weather feels good to me and I am sure I will be ready for some Panama Beach weather come Christmas break. I hope my cat won’t be as mad at me as she was when I got home this time. She hid and cried and screamed at me all day before she would let me touch her.

Vacations are charming but there is no place like HOME.

Shirley Caudill of London is a former newspaper editor/publisher and longtime freelance columnist. She is a Nashville native who has lived in Kentucky 40 years. She has six children, 11 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren and is married to a retired Army First Sergeant. She can be reached at gunnstar4912@gmail.com