Osprey detente

I had a bad experience-traumatic-but now I can look into the steely eyes of the fish-hunting raptor without diving for cover.

It began innocently enough; a balmy evening, the swing of the bat at G.T. Bray, the setting sun.

Then, it hit me.

On the side of the head.

I reached up to explore what it was-and smooshed it into my hair.

Osprey poop.

Or more precisely: the droppings of ‘Pandion haliaetus.’

The baseball players I was photographing laughed and pointed; my feelings about the situation were less amused.

But that’s all in the past now. I’m on good terms with the fishermen of the sky.

As long as I have my hat on.

--Tiffany Tompkins-Condie

Never Forget

Fred Fisher carries a flag as he walks down the Green Bridge onto Eighth Avenue to the Tribute to Heroes Memorial Service on Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2012 at Palmetto's Sutton Park.

Fisher lost a good friend, Jerry Olcott, on Sept. 11, 2001, when a plane hit the north tower of the World Trade Center.

Eleven years after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, many of us remember where we were that day when we heard the terrible news. I was with members of the Secret Service at Sarasota-Bradenton International Airport watching it unfold on a small television in a security room, then rushed onto the tarmac where Air Force One was waiting to take off with President George W. Bush.

In reality, this is trivial compared to those, like Fisher who lost loved ones in the attack. Their memory is not so much where they were, but who they lost. Yes, may we never forget their loss and remember the strengths of our great nation to carry on.

-Grant Jefferies