I just got through watching “The Big Year” again for the umpteenth time. I love to watch this movie, especially the extended version, and typically find it to be quite inspirational for me.
I used to spend every summer with my Grams in a small little community called Ocean Park, Maine, right on the Atlantic Ocean. When I was about twelve, we were out driving somewhere one day, likely getting some fresh corn for supper. My Aunt, who was with us, stopped at the nature center at Scarborough Marsh. We walked up the steps to the observation deck, and a gentleman was viewing birds through his spotting scope. He asked me if I’d like to take a look. I did; I saw a Little Blue Heron, my very first ”recorded” individual, and as they say, the rest is history.
Ocean Park is a five mile square former Chautauqua-Baptist community, and…
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