UD leaves very soon for the next leg of her year-long sabbatical from George Washington University: Key West, Florida.

When we last saw her, UD was living in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, in an apartment overlooking the Atlantic. Cold winter weather meant the town was largely deserted. She had trouble finding convenience stores whose doors weren’t locked.

But there were quiet cafes, quiet walks along beaches, visits from friends, and long hours for writing and thinking. She loved the sunrises and sunsets and the placid change of skies from morning to noon to night. Cargo ships and contrails reminded her of a world in transit. She herself had gone gloriously aground.

Now she goes to a subtropical island in high season. Although her apartment’s near the quiet end of Duval Street (It’s 2:28 AM and the place is hopping.), she’s about to enter an all-night party. (A pink cab just drifted by the live cam.) Key West is warm and awake and UD‘s ready for that.

A couple of days ago, the New York Times featured a small Key West house and its owner. The article gave UD a sense of daily life there.

For Murphy Davis, getting away means leaving the front door to his Key West cottage open — not just unlocked, but flung wide open. Tropical breezes blow through the house, bearing leaves from sapodilla trees, hibiscus petals, even sand. The presence of these elemental bits of nature is a sign that he is truly at home.

… “One of my favorite things about being in Key West is the physical environment,” said Mr. Davis, seated barefoot in a blue canvas chair on his front porch, a glass of iced tea in hand. “I like the sand on my floor. I don’t understand people who close up their houses and crank up the A.C.”

In these cold winter months, Key West beckons to him. “I have always considered Key West my second home,” said Mr. Davis, 52, who first became enamored of the island as a child.

He vividly recalls a fishing trip with his grandparents when he was 8 years old. “We left freezing Long Island, and in one day it was hot,” Mr. Davis said. “That was magical to me.” Even today he can point out the booth where he sat with them at Pepe’s Cafe, the oldest restaurant on the island. Mr. Davis first bought property here in 1997, with his partner at the time, along with the playwright Terrence McNally; they had identical side-by-side cottages on an idyllic lane

… The cottage, on the corner of two quiet lanes, is enveloped by lush foliage. Its one-and-a-half-story design is typical of the island’s smaller residences, as are the original louvered windows.

… A typical morning begins on the back deck, where Mr. Davis drinks coffee and spends time reading scripts — usually on a futon that has been draped with an Indonesian sarong. “I’m partial to futons because as a young actor I was a futon salesman in New York City,” he said with a laugh.

He gardens, goes to the local movie theater, and mingles with friends who include actors, writers, massage therapists and the park ranger who works at the entrance to the local beach. Cooking for small dinner parties, where guests flow easily through the house, inside and out, is another ritual.

Mr. Davis relishes his time alone here. Long afternoons include trips to the beach, to swim and read. He has no car and says he would not consider owning one. Instead, he prefers to travel by bicycle, in thrall to the sea air, the tropical foliage and multicultural spirit of Key West, a city of 25,000 permanent residents.

His travels by bicycle have brought him closer to the distinctive architecture of the 4.5-mile-long island, particularly the historic district, which contains 3,000 wooden structures, many with two-story porches and Victorian and Queen Anne architecture.