Sometimes treasures are hard to find. That is especially the case with Jay B. Starkey Park. It was an epic of frustration trying to find the place this March – a gem only the bravest and most patient of heroes could ever hope to capture.

​The first problem getting there was that it's in an area far away from any major roads. Route 75 passes nowhere near it. I couldn’t even find any unpaved back roads that would lead me right to it. This left me with two options: I could first go south several miles, take the Skyway Bridge north to 19, and then take 19 all the way north up the peninsula to Ridge Road or I could instead take 75 north to Route 4, cross busy Tampa, take 275 south, attempt to cross several lanes at the knot of mangled roadways next to the airport, and then take 589 North and hope that a sign would tell me what exit to take since I could find none on my map. Since Pinellas Peninsula is always choked with traffic everywhere and Route 19 is dotted with numerous traffic lights, I chose the second option.

Just as I took the ramp onto 589 I saw that it was a toll road. This was not indicated on any map! Due to the uncertainty of knowing whether there was an exit leading to the east side of the park, I quickly got onto Route 60 and crossed the bay to take 19 instead. I didn't want to have to turn around and pay the toll multiple times trying to figure out where to get off.

That day Route 60 was even more crowded than usual. I was trapped in mind-bogglingly slow stop-and-just-stop traffic that ended up tiring me out. By the time I got to 19 I was exhausted and 19 was similarly slow. I eventually had to stop for lunch instead of eating at the park as originally planned and this delayed me even further. Finally after what seemed like days I reached Ridge Road and then Decubellis road to the west side of the park. The park demons had done their best to defeat me but I was determined to have the treasure for myself! I looked around for a sign.

At last I finally saw a sign for Jay B. Starkey Park. It pointed directly at a driveway to the left of the street where there was an open gate. Someone was just leaving. Behind this was some sort of building I took for a ranger station. I had found the park at last! Entering the driveway, I then saw the signs prohibiting trespassing, solicitation, and warning me I was being watched. This was a private residence! A private residence that looked like a ranger station complete with a park gate! The park demons had tricked me. I had been delayed even further. I was tempted to knock and ask for directions, but instead I turned around and decided to drive further down Decubellis.

I thought that the sign might refer not to the driveway but to the street at the very next traffic light so I took a left there. I drove along looking for a second sign to indicate the park. Finally I saw one but this sign pointed directly at an obvious residential neighborhood. I was on to the demons’ tricks by now; I knew it must refer to the very next street. I kept going. There never was another street. I drove and drove and finally decided that I must've been tricked again and the park was indeed hidden behind the residential neighborhood. I’m sure they must love park goers driving through there all the time (sarcasm). Unfortunately there was nowhere to turn around. I was stuck on a narrow, two-lane road with no breakdown lanes. High curbs prevented me from pulling onto the grass. Traffic both ways prevented me from stopping. I must have driven for three miles before finally stopping in a turning lane next to a gated community. This was where I was finally able to make a U-turn and go back the way I came. The demons would not keep me away forever!

The park entrance was indeed in the back of the residential neighborhood. Entering the park I saw nowhere to pick up maps and there was no one around to ask. That’s okay; surprise is part of the fun. I saw an ominous sign that said “hikers be prepared no water on hiking trails.” My first thought was that law prohibited carrying water bottles with you while hiking. Perhaps too many people had left behind their litter and ruined it for the rest of us. I once visited a restaurant on a beach in a different county where straws and lids were prohibited by county law due to the litter problem. I had to drink my soda awkwardly with ice cubes hitting my face until I was ready to bring back the guillotine. Could that be happening here as well? The park demons were trying to provoke me. I eventually decided that interpretation unlikely and my second thought was that I was being warned that the trails were dry and that there were no streams or mud puddles. In the past I have been warned of wet areas and I know some people enjoy water, so I thought the sign was a way of warning them not to get their hopes up. I eventually decided that interpretation even more unlikely and my third thought was that I was being warned not to expect water fountains or concession stands out in the middle of the woods. Since I have never heard of such a thing and only total fools would expect such a thing, I decided that interpretation the most unlikely of all. What’s next? ATMs out in the middle of the woods?

Now worried that I would be arrested if seen carrying water with me, I drove around looking for a trailhead. Eventually I stopped in a parking lot with a sign that said “trail parking.” The first trail I took simply went from one parking lot to the other. I had made a horseshoe turn driving in and the only trails leading from my lot simply cut across the woods to the road I had entered in on. The space between the roads was a web of interwoven paths. There was also a playground. Was this all there was?

On the north side of the road there were additional trails, but these turned out to be even more frustrating. They would go perhaps 30 or 60 feet into the woods before abruptly ending. Some of them were so unclear they may have been animal trails. Others terminated in clearings containing picnic tables. Others simply looped right back to the road. I went down one after the other. I was becoming increasingly frustrated and thinking the park was a complete waste of my time. Finally I found one trail that ran alongside the road for a long ways without going deeper into the woods. I was very disappointed. The demons had won.

Just as I was thinking of going back to the car to sit and read I found another trailhead that lead deep into the woods towards the south. This area looked promising. I followed the trail deeper and deeper into the woods until I was distracted by a side trail – possibly an animal trail – that led me to a paved trail in turn leading me to a paved road. There was a sign promising a scale model of the solar system a mile long. One sign represented the sun. It was followed by Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, and way off in the distance was Jupiter. Across this road is where I picked up yet another dirt trail and then discovered paradise. I had found the treasure at last!

​This is quite possibly the best park I have ever been to in Florida. It is my new favorite. The weather was amazing! It was just the right temperature and there was an intermittent breeze. There were stunningly beautiful zones of thin trees that let in much sunlight. In other places the brush was thicker, creating semi-secluded areas. The ground was soft and covered in crushed pine needles in most places. One spot to the side of the trail had pine needles piled up so thick that they made a sort of crunchy mattress. There were also places of white sand. I could not help taking off my shirt and shoes. It was too nice a day not to. I had no choice. The best thing was that there were no flies at all. I saw a couple bees that day but that was it for insects.

I eventually went back the way I came before going down a side Trail. This led to yet another trail that had some brush growing across the entrance. Generally parks don't like you to go off trail much but this very clearly was a true trail. It merely had been a while since someone had checked on it to see if it needed maintenance. I walked in a ways and encountered another barrier. This was followed by another and another. Trees had fallen across the path in different places. The bushes were overgrown. I have heard that snakes sometimes hide in bushes and so I beat each one before pushing through.
​
Could there be more treasure beyond these barriers? A gem within the gem of a park that this clearly was? Each barrier was easily passable for me but I knew would deter the average hiker. I knew I would not be followed. I hoped that there would be a clearing deep in the woods that would make a nice secluded picnic spot that perhaps I could show to someone else one day. The terrain was such that I put my shoes back on, but the air was so nice that I took off my pants for a moment to let it wash over me. It was too nice a day not to. I had no choice. Unfortunately the barriers began to annoy me and I got dressed again. I eventually gave up without ever finding the end of the path or a good place to stop.

Returning the way I came I went down yet another side trail for a long ways and then returned by a wider, straighter, sandier trail where I had seen people biking before. It was only upon returning to the trailhead that at last I found some maps and realized that I had explored less than 5% of the park! I was extremely surprised. It had felt like I had been out there all day. I was also surprised to find that the trail where I had found the mattress of pine needles was much shorter than the last trail that I took. It had felt like it was the other way around. The trail with all the barriers was not on the map at all.

Another surprise was that the wide, straight, sandy trail where I had seen people biking was labeled as a hiking trail whereas the narrow twisting trails I had explored on foot were labeled as bike trails. This is completely backwards! Bikes go fast and might unexpectedly cross and spook an animal going around those turns. More importantly, who wants to walk in a straight line? The wide hiking trails are incredibly boring in the extreme. If that was all I was expected to walk on it would not have been worth the time to drive there; it would not have been worth it even if I lived next door. It would not have been worth the two dollars I paid to park there; I would have to be paid to show up. It would not be my favorite park in Florida; it would be my most hated park in Florida. Fortunately, unlike at Alafia River State Park, the signs had indicated that hikers were welcome on the bike trails. That’s a relief.

There were all sorts of oddities for me to photograph. There were many live oaks, reminding me of Crews Lake Wilderness Park. I saw a lot of “tree balls,” reminding me of Little Manatee River State Park. I saw a tree with four holes right through it. I also saw this giant lever in the middle of one trail, which I guess must be the switch they use to turn the forest off at night.

​I also saw some lichen and some strange roots.

I saw two gopher tortoises and their burrows were everywhere, reminding me of Weedon Preserve, Honeymoon Island, and Alafia River Park combined. As usual, they were very bold. I also saw two armadillos. One ran from me into the bushes just like at Camp Bayou and the other walked right up to me as if I didn’t exist just like at Weedon Preserve. I also saw squirrels, a woodpecker, a bright green lizard, a bright white mushroom, and a small snake.

I came across two mysterious structures in the forest. Could this be where the park demons live?

Then there were these magical gems I found able to grant love, happiness, and…I guess stripes to whoever possesses them. Since I had already found all this by exploring the wilderness, I left them behind for the next hero daring enough to penetrate the moat of frustration surrounding this vast, amazing, and beautiful domain.

Now outside the park again, I again experienced bad luck and frustration. The park was closed for several weeks due to a massive fire. It must be cursed. While posting this story, my browser crashed after every second photo I loaded. Some of the photos uploaded upside-down and I was unable to correct them. If you can brave the terror around it, it's a great place to spend a day.

​This is a poem I wrote in 2013. I imagine all of my poetry set to music, but I am rarely able to come up with my own tunes. This one I imagine to the tune of I’m On Fire by Bruce Springsteen.

​Come on little girl
Just take my hand
I'll make you a woman
And I'll be your man
The honor's mine
Oh, I'm on the line

I'll show you things
In a brand-new light
I'll take you places
Make you high as a kite
The honor's mine
Oh, I'm on the line

I know you think
You're second best
But I know different
From the beating in my chest
Come on girl
Don't take your time
Oh, I'm on the line

Sometimes I feel
I'm stretched too thin
As the days run on
And on without end
I'm stretched so fine
Oh, I'm on the line

The honor's mine
Oh, I'm on the line

Pinellas Heritage Village is just that – an entire village of houses built between 1850s and the 1910s all around Pinellas County and carried there in the 70s and 80s. Most of them you can now go inside and see what they were like. They often have interesting artifacts laid out and two of the houses have docent tours. They tell you in detail how people used to live and what all the artifacts do.
​
The upper classes of the nineteenth century had some pretty neat kitchen gadgets, including the swiveling teapot and the waffle maker. I thought it was strange that the bed was beautifully carved on the side facing the room and plain on the side facing the wall. You’d think they would like to move things around once in a while but I guess people were very stuck in their ways back then. They lived in the same house their entire life. It makes you wonder how much dust is under the bed. Also interesting is that the rich used to have very long curtains that dragged on the floor because they wanted to show everyone that they could afford to waste fabric.

​There was also a cabin that used to be out in the middle of the woods. It had no windows and the kids used to have to heat and pour boiling water through the spaces between the floorboards to drive away the animals that would otherwise take up residence underneath. It had two separate rooms connected by a wrap-around deck. It seemed cozy and I think I wouldn’t mind living there except for the mosquitoes.

There was also a train station, a schoolhouse, and a church. The church I had thought had a very interesting story. It was actually picked up and dragged intact by a hurricane at one time and then another storm many years later took its roof off. Later it was fixed up and moved to its present location.

​There is a little mini-museum visitor center near the entrance giving a little bit of the history of Pinellas County. It was very big in the sponge business. A sponge press was used to press the air out of the sponges to pack them into bales for shipping. Later it became a prime tourism spot and St. Petersburg was among the first cities to actually have a tourism department the specialized in marketing the city.

I learned a little bit about the parks in Pinellas County and how they began too. People used to just put their dead wherever or else they had a family plot but then when the land changed hands the records were lost so at some point they started to put the dead all together in one place. These first cemeteries were well maintained and in time people began to visit often to get away from the cities. When the first parks were created, they had to put up fences to keep out the chickens and pigs both domesticated and wild that used to roam around all over the place.

I found it very interesting. I like history. I like seeing how the stories of different people and things are all interconnected in subtle hidden ways. This place is just as good as any history museum only much much much bigger because it's like a whole bunch of museums in one – each one a treasure. You can walk around there almost all day. The village is free courtesy the city of Largo, Florida.

11909 125th Street N. Largo, FL 33774

This is a poem I wrote in 2013. I imagine all of my poetry set to music, though I am rarely able to come up with my own tunes. This one I imagine set to the tune of Sweet Loraine by Fred Stobaugh.

Oh dear Deirdre
Where did you go? What happened to ya?
Oh dear Deirdre
Are you happy now? What have you done?
Oh dear Deirdre
Do you ever think of me, now that I'm gone?
Oh dear Deirdre
Do you think you know why we had to stop the fun?
Oh dear Deirdre
There are so many things I want to tell ya.

I thank you for the good times. I thank you for being you.
I really do wish you well. I wish you luck in all you do.
We never said goodbye. Well, I guess there's no point to say it now.

Oh dear Deirdre
I thought I had more to learn. I want to know your favorite flava.
Oh dear Deirdre
If our paths ever cross, what will you say? Will you speak at all?
Oh dear Deirdre
There are so many more things I want to tell ya.

I hope you've no regrets. You only did what you had to do.
It was never part of the plan for there to be a me and you.
We never said goodbye. Well, I guess there's no point to say it now.

Oh dear Deirdre
I'll say a prayer, a prayer for ya.
Oh dear Deirdre
When we meet in heaven, what will you say? Will you speak at all?
Oh dear Deirdre
There are still so many more things I want to tell ya.

Separated from Honeymoon Island by a monster hurricane in the 1920s, Caladesi is reachable only by boat. I took the ferry over from Honeymoon State Park. Posts mark out a safe pass through the shoals and birds of all kinds sat on these and watched me pass sometimes as close as thirty feet away. After we docked, I ran off into the woods to explore the trails.

​There are some decent-length trails that pass through sandy areas of palmetto and cabbage palms. Towards the south, these give way to wooded areas carpeted by pine needles. The trails are intersected by a few service roads leading to restricted areas. What are the authorities hiding there?

Other than the birds on the way in, there were few animals around that day. I did see one large snail in one of the coves. I photographed it through a narrow gap in the brush at the end of one of the short side trails. I also saw the twin pine, which is a large tree with two trunks joined by a saddle-like structure that people apparently like to photograph themselves in.

I walked along the beach on the west side next. Since it was February, it was too cold to go swimming that day. Along with Honeymoon Island, Caladesi is known for the large numbers of beautiful shells that wash up on its shores. On this particular day, the wind and surf were up and most shells were broken. One discovery I made was the squeaking sand. In some areas, the sand would squeak as I stepped on it. This has never happened before. Apparently, this phenomenon occurs under very narrow humidity conditions with very round sand grains and is much more spectacular in other parts of the world. I was lucky to have encountered a weak case of it on Caladesi.

The island is equipped with restrooms, changing stations, and a concession stand as well as some great picnic areas and pavilions.

​This is a poem I wrote in 2013. I imagine all of my poetry set to music, though I am rarely able to come up with my own tunes. I am still trying to come up with something decent for this one.

I was going to write a song
It was going to be long

I gave up

How do fluids flow?
How does grass grow?
What makes water freeze?
What makes dogs sneeze?
How does blood clot?
How does food rot?
How do eyes see?
How do we disagree?
Who invented steak?
Who invented taste?
How do bees fly?
How big is the sky?
When was the dawn of time?
Who can name all primes?
Who knows when you lie?
Knows the digits of pi?
How many atoms in your purse?
How many in the universe?
How far to the farthest star?
What really is a quasar?
How many galaxies?
What makes gravity?
What is quantum topology?
What is space-time geometry?

I was going to write a song
It was going to be long
Words are just inadequate
So I gave up on it

I've barely scratched the surface yet

Who let it all go?
Became an embryo?
Came down to Earth?
Lived through a birth?
Covered by goo?
Crying for food?
Bound by space and time?
To ancient Palestine?
No roads paved?
No microwaves?
Limited in sight?
To wavelengths of light?
Surrounded by greed?
Lust, hate, and need?
Misunderstood so?
By both friend and foe?
Striped for you and me?
For his enemies?
Died willingly?
So sinners could be free?
Nailed to a tree?
So they could live in peace?
For all eternity?
Could a greater love be?

Inexpressable
Indescribable
Undeniable

And even this falls too short
I'm just going to stop talking

I discovered Sylvia Engdahl on the Independent Authors Network. She writes the Children Of The Star trilogy, made up of three books (This Star Shall Abide, Beyond The Tomorrow Mountains, The Doors Of The Universe) previously published traditionally.

​Children Of The Star might be the best novel I’ve read since Foundation’s Edge by Isaac Asimov. It is my new favorite. It is similar in many respects. There is a mysterious and reclusive group (the scholars) subtly guiding society. There is mention of telepathy. There are secrets that must never be told or else they would endanger the survival of the entire human race. There are secrets inside of secrets inside of other secrets wrapped around and twisted through still other secrets. Everybody has secrets they aren’t telling the others.

It goes much further than sociology and political science. The book is heavy on spirituality. The main character, Noren, learns through his heartbreaks the meaning of faith in a way I would not have even understood myself just six years ago. There are also moral dilemmas on every other page, such as when and when not to interfere in the affairs of other cultures, reminiscent of the prime directive from Star Trek.

The only thing I can say against the book is that at times it seemed to drag just a bit while Noren thought through every possible facet of an issue before making a decision. The book is more philosophy than action. At the same time, this additional detail really helped me to identify with the character and feel everything he went through. In the end, it becomes worth it.

Engdahl also makes excellent use of foreshadowing.

​It may be an art museum, but it’s actually a history museum. There are paintings and sculptures from Africa, Asia, Europe, and the Americas – some over 500 years old. It is impossible to get through it all in only two hours. With its high ceilings, fancy wallpaper and mirrors, and incredibly diverse collection, the museum is a work of art itself.

​I have too many favorites. I saw amazing glass work by Richard Ritter and Frederick Carder. I saw a rough-surfaced abstract by Enrico Donati (1909-2008), who is reported to have used coffee grounds, sand, and vacuum debris in his work. I saw masks and figures from Nigeria, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. I saw a stone figure of god-of-death Michtlantecuhtli (I love that name!!) from Mexico dated sometime between 1100 and 1500. It had slits to allow incense smoke to rise out of it. There was even a gold bird from Costa Rica. Since many of the artifacts from that area were used to make noise, it is hypothesized that the eyes were originally tiny bells whose clappers have fallen out. I also liked the Jain shrine with its intricate woodwork and tiny figures behind the windows. In the seventeenth century the central doors would have opened to reveal one of the twenty-four holy men in Jainism, but they must have been busy when I went (LOL).

​MFAStPete.org
255 Beach Drive NE, Saint Petersburg, Florida

​This is a poem I wrote in 2013. I imagine all of my poetry set to music, though I am rarely able to come up with my own tunes. This one I imagine to the tune of She’s So Cold by The Rolling Stones.

​Caramel apples
Caramel apples
You're a caramel apple girl

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Sweet and tangy
Wholesome crunch
There's nothing else I want in the world

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Young and sweet
Good to eat
Let me have some apples please

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
You're a caramel apple girl

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Putting two and
Two together
There's nothing better in all the world

You can't get enough
I can't get enough
You're my only caramel apple girl

Give me your apples
Give me your apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
You're a caramel apple girl

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Sweet and tangy
Wholesome crunch
There's nothing else I want in the world

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

Young and sweet
Good to eat
Let me have some apples please

I can't get enough
You can't get enough
I'll get you some more apples, girl

Maybe we can share
Our sweet sweet snack
Take the caramel - make it swirl!

I like your taste
And I like your plate
Tastes like nothing else in the world

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple, girl!!!

Caramel apples
Caramel apples
I want a caramel apple girl

​Rainbows are seen opposite from the source of illumination. There do exist secondary rainbows that require the light rays to make more turns, but these are often too faint to be seen. However, one day I looked straight up to see a rainbow around the sun (which was behind a cloud). What’s going on? Could it be formed from ice crystals instead of water droplets? Why have I never seen these before?

A while ago I read the 2003 book Finding God Where You Least Expect Him by John Fischer. It is about the current state of Christian culture.

​Fischer argues that Christians have too much isolated themselves in fear of “the world” when they should be engaging it, not only to expose evil, but also to expose good. God is everywhere and in everything, not only in “Christian” music and “Christian” books. Worse, most Christians have ceded their authority to discern right and wrong to the professional clergy, accepting much of what they say uncritically. This is why so many are against the Harry Potter series but haven’t read it. They edit out swearing and nudity in movies while leaving in suggestive or violent themes. Meanwhile they miss clearly biblical themes in secular movies and complain when a “Christian music” artist doesn’t mention Jesus enough in his/her songs.

He further argues that American Christians in general have unbiblical attitudes against the physical world (which God created and said was good), especially the human body and basic human psychology (including negative feelings of any kind). By ignoring the bad, they lose the opportunity to learn of an even greater good, such as redemption.

By withdrawing from the world, the Godly influence they could have had is gone. Could it be that the reason our public schools have so many problems is that whenever possible, Christian parents  remove themselves and their Christian kids to send them to Christian schools, which also draw away Christian teachers from the public school system?

Instead of keeping quiet, maybe we should keep reaching out.