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Though this area was dry when I began planning for this cache, a few days of heavy rains can saturate the area, leaving standing water at certain times of the year (like September). There is a dollar for FTF. Most of the swag has a Florida theme, but you can trade whatever you like. Extra credit for a poetic log entry!
A Florida Cache by Jennifla
These are the swag and the logbook.
This is the box
With waterproof locks,
That holds the swag and the logbook.
This is the moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks,
That holds the swag and the logbook.
This is the bush, sparkling with dew
Whose leaves and branches shield from view
The pile of moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks,
That holds the swag and the logbook.
This is the trail, the one that leads
Past pines and palmettos, rushes and reeds,
And passes a bush, sparkling with dew
Whose leaves and branches shield from view
The pile of moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks,
That holds the swag and the logbook.
This is the turkey, strutting around,
Who left me a feather on the ground.
Right in the trail, the one that leads
Past pines and palmettos, rushes and reeds,
And passes a bush, sparkling with dew
Whose leaves and branches shield from view
The pile of moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks,
That holds the swag and the logbook.
This is the park where families play,
Where memories grow while time slips away.
Home of the turkey, strutting around,
Who left me a feather on the ground.
Right in the trail, the one that leads
Past pines and palmettos, rushes and reeds,
And passes a bush, sparkling with dew
Whose leaves and branches shield from view
The pile of moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks
That holds the swag and the logbook.
These are the coordinates, Long and Lat,
Which tell you where the cache is at
In the park where families play,
Where memories grow while time slips away.
Home of the turkey, strutting around,
Who left me a feather on the ground.
Right in the trail, the one that leads
Past pines and palmettos, rushes and reeds,
And passes a bush, sparkling with dew
Whose leaves and branches shield from view
The pile of moss, green and grey
That fell from the oaks on a windy day
To cover the box
With waterproof locks
That holds the swag and the logbook.
These are the cachers, listed below,
Who got the coords and had to go
Out to the park to have some fun
On the trail where the turkeys run.
They checked around bushes sparkling with dew,
Under the moss-piles (in hollow logs, too).
They brushed the Spanish moss aside
And laughed or prayed or smiled or sighed,
When they found the box
With waterproof locks
That holds the swag and the logbook.
Additional Hints
(No hints available.)