Reflections: The 2012 vs. 2013 Boston Marathon

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Today the city is sunny, sullen and tinged with an eerie quiet. The community of Cambridge wants to wrap our big brother Boston in a bear hug and not let go.

Yesterday morning I woke up with a head cold and grumpily turned on the televised race footage. We were eager to go downtown to celebrate this day with our friends, but I was physically feeling puny and we reluctantly decided to stay home. Stevie worked on papers and I watched the race for hours from the comfort of my couch. This cold was perhaps a blessing in disguise. I won't re-hash the details of the horrific bombings that have been covered in excess by the news. After several panicked phone calls to friends we knew were downtown at the Finish Line, Stevie and I began to pray for safety for the victims and for all plans of evil in our city to be thwarted. Thankfully, our friends who were running the marathon and watching from downtown were all safe, though many of them were in the vicinity of the blasts and watched the horror unfold.

Patriots' Day

For many of you who don't live in Boston, you might not understand the importance of Patriots' Day in this city. Before I moved to Boston I didn't understand why people got the day off of work and school.

Patriots' Day is a civic holiday celebrated in Massachusetts (and Maine) to commemorate the Battles of Lexington and Concord. These battles mark the beginning of the American Revolutionary War, and therefore, celebrate freedom and independence.

In my extremely limited experience, it is a day that I can only compare to a robust 4th of July on steroids. Bostonians are fiercely proud of their heritage, and on this day, that pride is honored throughout the city with jubilation. It is an infectious tradition that makes you wish you were a permanent cog in this community. As a native Atlantan, I've never experienced a city-wide event so richly steeped in heritage and celebrated so widely. Everyone celebrates the marathon by showing up in droves to watch the runners. Strangers cheer for the athletes, high-five each other, children wave American flags. There is no distinction between race or creed, gender or age, even hometown heritage. On this day, no matter where you're from, you are a cheering Bostonian and you are happy.

We were amongst those who watched the race from Commonwealth Avenue last year, at the 2012 Marathon. I want to share a few photos and a video for you to understand the intended joy of this day, which was captured a year ago when we attended this event:

Boston Marathon 2012 from Kristen Hale on Vimeo.

Reflect

I share this with you so that you may have a deeply sensitive appreciation for what the community of Boston is enduring. It's okay to be angry, it's okay to be sad, but in times like these I hope the processing of these emotions will lead to greater compassion and empathy for others.

Keep in mind all the goodness shown by people in these moments of terror. Marathon runners tearing off their clothes in order to stop the bleeding of victims, marathon volunteers carrying victims into ambulances, emergency-response authorities cooperating with complete strangers in order to minimize the volume of panic and pain. Even more amazingly, a googledoc was passed around by Boston residents who opened their home up for strangers to stay. Many visitors to Boston (for this particular event) had been displaced by the hotels in the area that were shut down due to the blocked-off crime scene.

These acts of kindness should be at the forefront of our appreciation to God's goodness in people. Feel free to post your comments, thoughts and prayers.

Tour of New England (Part 2): York, Maine

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York by the Sea.

Maine is a really special place. Nestled into weathered crags by the sea, The Nubble Lighthouse shines from Maine's Cape Neddick into the wide expanse of the Atlantic. The Lighthouse sits atop a small island that hails from the quaint community of York, also known for being a summery seaside haven. You've probably seen photographs of this Lighthouse before; it's a famous landmark often found on the front of postcards showcasing the salty purity of ocean-side America. Stevie and I dragged our friends John and Tricia up to the lighthouse on our Tour de New England. Although the wind almost blew us off the cliff, it was a worthy sight to see. This blustery day was chiseled with nautical romance as we wandered around and imagined that ships were passing by in search of treasure (as I'm sure many have before.) The rocky shoreline, the icy water, the soaring winds; they were all there to greet us. Oy.

// Fun Fact //

When NASA sent the Voyager II into space to photograph the outer solar system, it also sent a bevy of artifacts and photographs to share just in case the astronauts encountered extraterrestrials. One of those photographs was of The Nubble Lighthouse. I find this bit of information particularly humorous. Those guys at NASA must have been Boy Scouts; I admire their efforts to "always be prepared."

// "The Way Life Should Be: Open For Business" Mmm so deep, Maine. //

A Maine Must.

If you ever get the chance to visit this part of the country, don't forgo the opportunity to pay homage to this lighthouse. The wind-whipped beacon is steeped in history, urban legend and a coastal charm that only Maine can boast.

Tour of New England (Part 1): Portsmouth, NH

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We had the loveliest treat. Our dear friends John and Trish Spicknall came to visit, and boy, were we glad. The winter blues had set in nicely and we needed a little piece of home. The Spicknalls are just that: they are warm, they are deep, they are silly. All things we love and value in these dear friends. Since they had previously visited and had done a lot of the "Boston-ish" stuff, we decided to take a day trip out into the lands of New England and explore a bit. This was a long day filled with wondrous adventures, so many adventures, in fact, that I have to break up this post into three parts! The photos are delicious. Please enjoy my recommendations for New England fun.

First we jumped into the (rented) car and visited visited Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

Three things to do while in Portsmouth:

1. Get brunch at the Friendly Toast.

The Friendly Toast is a breakfast/lunch spot located in Downtown Portsmouth. It's quirky, shticky and seriously delicious. Introduced to us by The Sorrow Family years ago, we have been itching to return and enjoy the tasty brunch once again. The highlights? French toast made with cornmeal-molasses Anadama bread, house-made homefries, and the Greek Scamble top our list (and they have amazing fruit salad, too!) If you're driving through the area, it's a must. Plus, after brunch you might get the chance to chat with a police officer (with a wicked accent) right before they write you a parking ticket, and that rush of adrenaline can really put you in an expeditious mood.

2. See the view across the Piscataqua River.

The Piscataqua inlet is so lovely and worth taking a stroll to see. It's a quintessential New England harbor view of Maine. And if you time it just right, you can catch the sunset on the river while sipping a cold Harpoon from one of the many bars along Bow Street. Worth it.

3. Visit the New Castle Lighthouse.

My goal is to see them all (lighthouses, that is), and this one is a beauty. Situated on New Castle Island about 2 miles from downtown Portsmouth, the New Castle Lighthouse was erected in 1771 and has visibility for 12 nautical miles. This  monument is officially older than our country! Staring at this breathtaking beacon stirred within me such a gratitude to be living in New England. These are the moments that really connect me to the roots of this country. I'm proud to be an American, yes I am.

// A peak at the Piscataqua River // Bow Street //

// Oh, the dearest of friends. What would I do without her? //

// I hope I glow this gleefully when I'm with child! These two are the cutest, at The New Castle Lighthouse. //

Portsmouth is a lovely little place. But our day forged onward into Maine... More to come on this day's picturesque adventures :-)

Big. Bad. Bird.

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In the words of my PERFECT nephew Ollie, this was one "Big bad bird." Ollie, you were so right.

The Setting.

When I went to visit my beautiful sister and her family in Florida a few weeks ago, I had the strangest encounter. Ollie and I went out on the dock at sunset. He just turned three years old and we have some really great conversations these days. My favorite includes, "I love you. I really really love you." Occasionally he will say it back to me. When I'm lucky.

But on this particular sunset, our bare feet padded down the wooden dock and we laid out on our tummies, laughing and talking and looking at the water. We discussed my nail polish color (Essie Tart Deco), the book I was reading (The Alchemist) and our recent encounters at Disney World. Like I said, he is the perfect little guy.

Then we noticed a bird. Far, far out in the water, outlined by the magnificent sunset, was a fiercely beautiful pelican, lazily floating along the water.

The Conversation.

"Look Ollie!" I pointed out. "Look at that big bird!"

"Pelican," he answered. He is just the smartest.

"Yes! You are so right, it is a pelican. Look, he's looking at us! Maybe he will swim closer to us."

Freakishly enough, the bird did start swimming towards us. At a kind of rapid pace. For the 90 seconds of its swim time, Ollie and I are pointing and wowing over the bird.

The Folly.

"Ollie, he must like us! Look at how fast he's swimming towards us! THIS IS SO COOL!" Ollie laughed and clapped with me. We were both such innocent younglings. We didn't know.

The bird swam right up to the dock. And what happened next... well, maybe I'll just show you.

Are you getting a bad feeling yet? For some reason, that bird looks semi-diabolical, right? Once it got up close, I had a very bad feeling. And then it moved closer. Remember, my sweet little nephew and I were laying ON OUR STOMACHS on the dock. So vulnerable to the terrors of Mother Nature. We fell silent. The bird was within 2 feet of us.

Suddenly I realized I should stop taking pictures with my iPhone. Something was just wrong. Then the bird did a very bad thing. It aggressively jutted its beak out toward us and fanned its wings out. It was a shocking interaction to have with an animal, but it was certainly a VERY clear sign that it didn't like us. This sudden movement of aggression scared the crap out of me. I grabbed the baby and leaped back up the dock, hollering, "STTTEEEEVVVVIIEEEEEE!!!!!"

Ollie was confused. I was confused. I shouted, "Bad bird! BAD BIRD!!!" The pelican just looked at me, unshaken by my cowering fear. He trailed alongside the dock, his eyes on me while he hovered in the water. Creep.

Stevie and my bro-in-law Brad appeared on the scene and I quickly (and loudly) explained the bird's bad behavior. Brad (a Florida native) just looked at the bird and said, "Get. Get!" Instead of getting, the pelican did the same thing to him! Jutted out his ugly, vile beak and extended his wings upward towards Brad. This bird messed with the WRONG PEOPLE. And by that I mean I totally acted like a panicked girl and screamed for man-help, and I gratefully received it. Dumb bird. I have MAN HELP. Top that.

"Whoa. I've never seen a bird do that here. Or anywhere, " said Brad. He and Stevie immediately went and grabbed a few small rocks. PETA don't freak out. This was a seriously deranged bird. They began tossing rocks in the water to spook him, and after several tries, the bird finally flew away. Ick, keyword: FINALLY.

Recovery.

I've been shaken up about this experience for weeks. Apparently aggressive pelicans exist. Usually because people feed them. We didn't have any food on the dock, but Brad said the bird might have been territorial. Geez.

Yesterday I Skyped with Ollie and he reminded me of the "big bad bird." I told him that he was such a big boy when that happened. And that I loved him. And he responded immediately, "I love you!" Pure joy to my heart. Almost made the harrowing, ominous "big bad bird" episode worth it. Almost.

Sometimes nature can be a real mother, you know what I mean?

Is it Springtime Yet?

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After such a windy-cold weekend, I am really beginning to wonder if New England even has Spring. I am still wearing clunky boots, my puffy black beast of a coat and ear warmers (because my brain hurts in the wind.) It's getting a little ridiculous. Will I be able to wear shorts up here before I move? (P.S. our move out date is May 31 - eek!)

All that whining aside, I decided to inspire myself with some old flower photos I took last year. FYI I love taking pictures of flowers. It's the lady in me that just loves loveliness. Most of these gems were taken on Martha's Vineyard (AKA my happiest place) and they give me hope that Spring should be coming... any day now... really, any day now. Seriously. Come on.

Bring on the Blooms

I hope wherever you are you, you are beginning to feel lovely lovely effects of Winter waking up from its long nap. Happy Monday, dear friends.