This post should have been put up two months ago. But the last two months have been filled with (some) decluttering and cleaning, a lot of wondering where we’re going to live and what we will do, and then, finally, a move itself.

But this isn’t a personal blog of that kind, so let me introduce Dade Battlefield Historic State Park in Bushnell, Florida, which lies about an hour and fifteen minutes from Tampa.

Once again, this is a park I had been to before (in this case, 11 years prior). My memories from that visit center around the park’s massive live oak trees, which stretch dozens of feet wide and have a picturesque coverage of Spanish moss and resurrection ferns (see picture above–though I swear when I was younger the trees were more separate and located in a grassy field???). I also recalled the little historical museum that gives an overview of Florida’s military history during the second Seminole war in the mid-1800s. Major Dade and his army (save for three souls) were all killed near to this park on December 28, 1835. (RIP? The war was partially begun due to slave hunters going into Seminole territory to capture back black Seminoles with no proof of ownership.)

That past meant nothing to my eldest, who cannot read and was not told that tale (though he did take a couple seconds to look at the military uniforms and weapons which I did not photograph).

(Look at that bench! Like other state parks, several features are built with that beautiful large stone you see so little of outside of nature parks and certain historic areas.)

About half of our time at this park was spent on the half-mile hiking trail that cuts through what was, at the time, a post-controlled burn wasteland. Although at first glance that makes for a less interesting landscape, I don’t mind it; I like investigating the impact fire has on the environment: what gets scorched but perseveres? What disappears, and for how long?

My eldest, too, is very interested in controlled burns and the fact that fire can “help the trees.” We talked a lot about that as we meandered. He even found some large pine cones, and I got to educate him on how many pine tree’s reproductive cycles rely on fire.

Of course, the walk was soon done; it ended near a small playground that we also sat at for about twenty minutes as my eldest fooled around and my youngest enjoyed the infant swing. After an hour and a half or so, we were pretty much done. (I should add here that there is another short trail on the other side of the park, but we did not attempt to hike it this time. I imagine it could have added about fifteen minutes if we had decided to take it once more, as we did when I was 19.)

Will I come back again? Will it take another ten plus years? I think I will return when my sons are both old enough to read the interpretive information in the museum and join me in looking for reptiles in the pine flats. So… In perhaps six or seven years, Dade Battlefield, I am likely to return.