Gazing up the steep stairwell in complete darkness aided only by the dim light of my iPhone, I ponder the significance of this climb as the rush of childhood memories start flooding my consciousness.
Step by step I found myself gripping the same handrail that guided me to this dark place some 50 years earlier.
During a recent business trip through Central Georgia, photographing Firehouse Subs restaurants, I had an opportunity to swing through Dublin Georgia, a place I hadn’t visited in decades and the former home of my Grandparents. As childhood memories go, visiting my Grandpa during the holidays and summer was a wonderful time. The 60’s were innocent times, full of exploration and learning for this pre-teen. My Grandfather was the manager of Dublin’s Woolworth store, but he might as well have been the President in my eyes. A larger-than-life, deep-voiced German, Mr. Vogel to others was a gentle giant of a soul.
I often went to work with him, sweeping and doing odds and ends for the tidy sum of fifty cents a day. One big job that I had was bringing new stock items down from the second-floor storerooms. While the task was simple enough, these storerooms were a place of terror for me. Dark and musky smelling, the rooms were full of murky life. Silhouettes of mannequins watched my every move and images of the Wolfman adorned the toy model boxes. No matter how scared I was, Grandpa would continue to send me up to the “land of no return.” I believe he was helping me to develop skills to control my fear. A lesson I that would help me the rest of my life.
Almost exactly 50 years later, I find my self at the bottom of that stairwell again. The old Woolworth building is now a trendy restaurant with many of the old objects repurposed as art on the walls.
As the owner listens to me telling the story about the upstairs storage attic, he ushers me to the back of the building and invites me to go up there one more time – alone. He tells me to take my cameras and spend as much time as I like. At the top of the dark stairwell is another door, once opened the natural light spills out, and the musky odor of this place rushes back. Gone are the werewolves and evil mannequins, replaced my memories of past times with my Grandpa. As I place my hand on the walls, old peeling lead-based paint crumbles to the floor; the old wooden floor creaks under my feet, I find myself thanking my Grandfather for the many lessons of facing my fears.
The morning sun had just turned the saltwater marsh to a golden hue, as I strolled through the Cradle Creek Preserve in Jacksonville Beach. As joggers passed me along the trails, I ventured out to the canoe and kayak landing just as some visitors from Canada were launching their Kayak on their way to Dutton Island.
I found the preserve a birding paradise, as palliated woodpeckers darted back and forth thought the oak canopy of the maritime forest; the sounds of other migrant and resident birds filled the air. Off into the distance from another wildlife observation area, an osprey called out to its mate from a large tree that supports their nest. Several anhinga were perched on logs air-drying their wings, offering a picturesque foreground to an amazing vista.
Located on the corner of South 15th street and Fairway Lane, this 43 acre park is a true gem offering a wonderful way to explore Florida’s native plants and animals from the comfort of well groomed trails and boardwalks. More information can be found on the Jacksonville Beach website at http://www.jacksonvillebeach.org.
One Yelp reviewer called Castaway Island Preserve “Just a nice beautiful setting at sunset. I just naturally relax while walking around with so much natural beauty”
Located on the Intracoastal Waterway on San Pablo road, Castaway Island has several trails that wind through the pine Flatwoods and along the saltwater marshes of this preserve. One of the first things I notice was the imprints of animal tracks on the paved trails and thought; this would be a great educational guessing game to play with a child.
Further down the paved trail, I came across a long boardwalk that overlooked a grassy marsh, where the sounds of a darting kingfisher broke the morning’s silence. At the end of the boardwalk there’s a large interpretive sign that describes with photos, the animals of the salt marsh and how they adapt to a saline environment.
If you’re looking for some nice quiet and pet friendly wilderness to stroll through and perhaps pack a picnic lunch, make sure to bring your camera or binoculars and you should be able to see a variety of birds and animals in this environmental oasis.
Over the weekend, I spotted a mating pair and was mesmerized as they soured back and forth like fighter jets, while calling out to each other in the early morning sun.
The eagle is a magnificent bird of prey – their image represents many powerful symbols and national pride; from old American gold coins to the Presidential seal – they are the American mascot, our national bird.
So what does the eagle symbolize in our culture? According to the website Universe of Symbolism (universeofsymbolism.com) the Native American’s regarded the eagle as the Great Spirit and its feathers are used in different ceremonies and dress. Spiritually, it may remind us to be victorious, proud and strong and historically their symbol represents freedom, truth and justice.
A myth of the ancient Aztecs society told a story of a battle between the eagle and a jaguar about who would become the sun. The eagle won after throwing itself in to the fire and the jaguar followed, thus becoming the moon. Afterwards, the Aztecs built two elite armies called the eagles and the jaguars.
Locally in N.E. Florida there is a webcam for viewing eagles and their chicks at http://www.eagles.org/Cams/FloridaNest.html offering 3 different camera views and chatting capabilities, however to protect these birds its nest is not revealed.