I flew the coop early, leaving at 5:45 AM to arrive at what is now The Center for Marine Science at Whitney Lab by 6:45 AM.Many may recall the site as the original Marineland, the world’s first oceanarium in St Augustine.
I was registered for the Birds of Prey Workshop at the 2009 Florida Birding & FotoFest The early morning photography session featured four feathered friends: a Bald Eagle, Crested Caracara, American kestrel and Barred owl. Audubon Society members were available to handle and answer questions about each bird.
Nature photographer, Greg Downing, personally showed me valuable pointers about reading the histogram and using the Aperture Value control. Once I set the f-stop, the Av setting allowed my camera to select the correct shutter speed.
Headshot of a Bald Eagle--a bird of preyThe Bald Eagle--National Bird
Between tripod mount, sitting on the ground, squatting, kneeling and fiddling with camera controls, I managed to snap these shots. For me, they rate as a soaring success.
For anyone interested in wildlife photography, this annual East coast event presents a flurry of lectures and field classes. Well-known experts like Rick Sammon and Rob Sheppard teach beginner to advanced levels over the four-day FotoFest.
Crested Caracara
Following the photo shoot, I was off to the airport and Baltimore. This weekend, the globe-trotting grand was attending grand-daughter Claire’s christening.
One lantern in Old North Church meant that the British were marching on land. Paul Revere galloped on horseback from Boston to Lexington. He spread the alarm, awakening every house along the road.
I was warned to awaken by the alarm on my cell phone. I knew, “The British were coming, get down to the town green.” And by the time I arrived at 5:00 AM, a huge crowd had gathered.
In Massachusetts, The Battle of Lexington is re-enacted yearly on Patriot’s Day, on the very ground were it first took place in 1775. From the actions on that field the Revolutionary War began.
Today locals participate in costume, some taking on the role of anarchists or members of the British regiment. Many children also dress in colonial garb. They stay with their mothers, running onto the battle field after the conflict to tend the wounded, while other young lads beat drums in the corps.
The battle has been staged for 38 years to honor those who fought for our freedom. The scene is solemn, the crowd is hushed and the participants act with pride. The pre-dawn ceremonies begin with an announcer recounting the story of April 19, 1775, the fateful day of “the shot heard round the world .”
The British Regiment
The actual fight was very brief; the colonists were confused and lacked leadership. The British regiment marched in unison, their lobster red coats piercing the early morning fog.
No one knows who fired the first shot, but after it was heard, mayhem broke out on the green and the local militia retreated. They were defeated in the skirmish, fell back and regrouped.
In 1775, many colonists traveled to nearby Concord to join other rebels. There they surprised and over powered the British. All day, they attacked the troops along what is now called Battle Road .
As I watched from the back of the crowd, the young children around me gasped at the face to face combat and rifle smoke. The teens were drawn into eye witnessing living history. But, I was awestruck by the bravery of the fighting men. The courage and bravado these first Americans showed was immense; they truly were passionate in their beliefs.
The crowd of thousands, present at the early hour, bespoke of their reverence for the day. I viewed the event as a wake up call, one that left me with a clearer understanding of Patriot’s Day and the debt we owe our forefathers.
The Boston area offers a variety of activities on this holiday weekend: the annual Boston marathon, Red Sox games, the re-enactment of Paul Revere’s ride and the battles at Lexington and Concord. However, the small town of Lexington (population 30,000) deserves to be especially proud of the dignity preserved during their event. The re-enactment at dawn runs on time, remaining faithful to history. I was humbled and honored to stand on sacred ground.
I wasn’t traveling the full 1.21 jigga-watt speed required to jettison me Back to the Future, but fast enough to lose a season.
Florida was warm and sunny, in full-foliage springtime bloom when I left. I landed in Boston ‘s cold, bleak and leafless-tree winter. However, I grasped the future in my arms, picking up my newborn grandson, his script yet to be written.
I focused on my grown daughter Abby, a new Mom, beaming with love at her first baby. Thirty years replayed in my mind; the entire generation gone at mach speed.
In the movie, Back to the Future,Michael J. Fox ‘s character arrives in the past, surrounded by people wearing vintage clothing; retro hair styles, eating 50’s food and speaking outdated slang.
Luckily, infants remain unchanged. They still need midnight and three A.M. feedings, stacks of diapers, doll-sized outfits and baby shampoo, the kind that smells powdery sweet. But, oh my, nothing beats the bliss of cuddling a new babe.
Forget sending me back to the future, blast me forward. I’d like to stick around (in good health) to see my grandchildren grow.
Little Jonah, welcome to your world. May you wander through life under sunny, non-turbulent skies, at whatever travel speed you desire.
