Darlene's Digest

A red-tailed hawk swooped above with a piercing kee-yar! before perching in a tree to keep an eye on them. A steady chorus of insects buzzing testified to the day’s warmth, but Sophia heard the gurgling of water slipping down the sides of the ravine through the ferns and shrubs. The steady trickling cooled the surrounding area, even up here at the top. At the bottom, a stream glinted in the sunlight shining full on it, unhampered by the trees ringing the Chalice. “Where does the stream go?” “Underground. This area’s full of streams that disappear, then reappear later. But that water’s good. We can fill our bottles as we go down, but we’ll make camp up here.” -- The Bride and the Buccaneer One of my earliest books, and one of my favorites still, The Bride and the Buccaneer allowed me to take a meandering journey through some of my favorite spots in North Central Florida, from St. Augustine to the remains of the Bellamy Road, and in my own backyard, the Devil's Millhopper Stat...

The moon hanging heavy above the trees illuminated the pine flatwoods and palmettos, clear enough for him to see a raccoon scamper across the track in front of them. “Older he-coons wait until near dawn to come out,” Carl had told him at the trading site as John admired his collection of skins to trade. “The younger males get trapped or et by panthers and gators ‘cause they ain’t got no sense.” --BOOK NINE, maybe titled FOR LOVE OF A SMUGGLER or maybe TREASURE ON THE TIDE, I dunno yet... Floridians of a certain age may recall the phrase, "The old he-coon walks just before the light of day" and how it helped our late Governor "Walkin' Lawton" Chiles win an election. I was out walking a few mornings back and saw this guy scampering across a neighbor's lawn. It was long past light of day, so he may have had a busy night, or just lacked good sense.  Racoons are part of the Florida landscape, and these little trash pandas are annoying, but also interest...

  “You want to be careful about not going into the brush without checking first. The last thing you need is for a snake or a scorpion to say howdy while your trousers are down.” “I don’t recall having to deal with venomous snakes before.” “You were a town dweller, John” she said, giving him a glance over her shoulder. “You don’t hunt, but you shoot. You’re used to tailored clothing. You can rule out being a farmer or a homesteader from your life.” “That still leaves a lot of choices.” They came around a massive live oak and he saw the creek, dragonflies hovering over the shimmering water. A blue jay disturbed by their passage called out raucously from a maple and another bird answered. It seemed peaceful out here in the woods even though danger was everywhere, according to Kate. --[WIP, Working Title] FOR THE LOVE OF A SMUGGLER  c. 2025, all rights reserved       September is college football season in Gainesville, but for me it's the beginning of Florida hikin...

There are two statues representing the State of Florida in the US Capitol. One is Dr. Mary McLeod Bethune, an amazing educator, civil rights activist, and presidential advisor. It is most fitting that she represent this state. The other statue is 19th C. physician Dr. John Gorrie. Less well known, but so vitally important to Florida in his own way. There's an old saying around here, "It was DDT and air-conditioning that settled Florida." DDT is now banned in the US, but in the 20th c. it was crucial for killing off mosquitoes so that people could live in this swamp. The other thing that made life bearable is air conditioning, and Dr. Gorrie's research into refrigeration and using ice and fans to cool sickrooms led to the development of air-conditioning for homes and other buildings.  I know how important this is because this week our air conditioning gave up the ghost after 20 years of solid service. It may be autumn where you are, but in Florida it's still summer...

As the shadows lengthened, the men began gathering around the tables like wasps drawn to sweet fruit, cozying up to their women and trying to talk them out of some of the food before the feast officially began. Ma Ivey ruled her dirt yard like an empress, and wasn’t above slapping a reaching hand with a wooden spoon when they drew too close. Finally though, the last of the cane was put through the mill and the syrup cooked down, and as the night sky filled with stars the feast began to a chorus of tree frogs and crickets serenading the workers. They lined up before the platters of roast pig and venison, quails, turkey, and doves. Even a possum or two joined the potatoes in the smoldering coals. There was fish stew and slow-cooked turtle, gator tail and fresh bass, and plenty of home-brewed ale and scuppernong wine to wash it down. The ever present corn was there, too, as meal, mush, bread, pone, grits, and “roasenears,” cooked in the hot coals. Julia grinned to herself. There would be ...