I’ll Wear A Kilt

This is Digby Pancake. If there was ever a place that I felt more comfortable in than Inverness, Florida…well, I don’t know where that would be.

It was brought to my attention by Girl Person that every place we visit in our travels has a story of how it got its name. Sometimes we don’t think about that. Maybe no one asks how Inverness, Florida came to be called that. Because maybe you have other things to think about. But I don’t today. So I asked about Inverness, Florida. And Girl Person told me.

She told me that it originally had one name. But then someone said it reminded him of his home of Scotland. And I’ve heard about Scotland. And I like Scotland. They have a solution to pants which I don’t care for. They. Like. Kilts!

Seems to me that my problem of wearing no pants to make room for more pancakes would be highly solved by a kilt.

But Sheriff Brickle? He said that anything that detracts from his handsome…well…isn’t acceptable. And he said I might look too good.

Yes. I know it would be all the rage. Dogs in kilts. Genius.

What I love about Inverness, Florida the most though…is not kilts. Which I have actually seen no one wearing.

But it’s the fact that someone loved it so much to name it after a place they called home.

You see, every place and every town and everywhere has a story. You just have to sometimes search to find it. But if you lift up that kilt of mystery, you never know what you’ll find out. Actually. Never mind.

Digby Pancake

The Magic Forest

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. Some days are magic. Like when you wake up and the sun is shining and the birds are singing.

Some days are not so magic…like yesterday in this Florida place. It rained for a whole day and never stopped. It was so cold and muddy that I thought we would all turn into snowmen. If there was snow. And if we were men.

But as we took a walk in the rain, because that is what we do, we happened upon a magical place.

Even though it was raining, the trees blocked out most of it so that it only trickled a little bit.

And we sat there. And we looked. And we listened. And it felt like we were nowhere else but there. And that was an important feeling. When was the last time you had a feeling like that?

It’s easy to get sidetracked. We can be one place, and thinking about another. We can be talking to someone, but only thinking about what we are going to say next. And it’s rare when you can be somewhere and only there. And this was the magical place in the forest.

Even though we can had never been there before, it felt like an old friend.

Like those friends you have that you can just sit in a room and not say a word, but feel love. You know what the other is saying. And we could hear the forest. It was telling us that it was a protection. Not only from the rain. But a protection from the outside world that had so much commotion. So much to distract. The trees spoke of their branches weighed down with ferns. They loved their style and their green, green arms.

The ferns spoke of their birds and their frequent spider inhabitants. The spiders spoke of their webs and their work of spinning. And all of them sang a song together. Only they could hear it. And yet they said of others listened, they would hear their own song. They were just the instruments.

So much so, that the magic almost made my bad attitude go away. Almost. Because as much as the magic of the first can help you hear life, it breathes life into you. It make you feel like you. Because there is only being in the moment in a magic forest. And there are no tricks to that.

So find your magic forest today. Be still. Listen. Find your peace. You had it once. It’s an old friend.

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle