Category: Young Adult/Teen Publisher: Club Lighthouse Publishing
Type: Fiction
Pages: 197
Copyright: August 1, 2011
ISBN-13: 9781926839998
When the girl of his dreams trips over a high school nature photographer, bringing them face to face for the first time, catching him in the act of photographing a rare bird, in order to prove his worth to her, he initiates a project that will change the lives of everyone around him. This project will have impact far beyond anything they could have imagined.
The book is richly illustrated with photographs taken in and around Central Florida.
Heron Baby Island has been superseded by "Rookery Island" which contains all four books of the Stu Greene series.
Heron Baby Island is a coming of age story featuring a group of teen agers who work together under the leasership of one of their own to accomplish an environmental project that they could not hae tackled alone.
It is intended to demonstrate that teens can make adifference if they choose to harness the energy and visiion that they already possess.
At 50k words, the book is available in multiple electroinc formats. Due to the richness of the color pictures that accompany the text, a color format is recommended. the book is not available in hard copy.
the book is suitable for middle schoo lreaders, but is intended for high shcool and mainstream readers.
Excerpt
Natalie Marshall smiled when she spotted Stu Greene exactly where she expected to find him, with his camera pointed at a dark gray bird in the hedge between the school’s football field and the adjacent wetland mitigation site, hiding behind a bush next to the walkway ahead of her.
Stu glanced up as Natalie approached. He saw the smile, but did not pay attention to it. He did notice the reddish highlights in Natalie’s long dark hair as the light from the afternoon sun and the slight breeze conspired to give her a dark halo. Stu sighed. Her boyfriend was the campus bully and the school’s all-star all-American. That fact helped keep Stu from jumping up and saying something stupid to try to impress her which he might have done anyway if he was not preoccupied. Stu shifted his attention back to his camera. Natalie’s smile broadened. Composing a text message with her thumbs, Natalie stepped on Stu’s outstretched foot.
Oww, Natalie watch where you’re walking.”
“Stu Greene, what are you doing hiding behind that bush? Did I step on your foot?”
“Yes, will you be quiet?”
Stu blinked and shook his head. Natalie Marshall was one of the prettiest girls in school. She had been on the gymnastics team last year until she had injured her wrist near the end of her last routine at the state finals. Stu knew how she looked in her gymnastics uniform. As the school’s best sports photographer, Stu had taken her picture many times in her tight fitting uniform. Stu’s picture of Natalie holding her wrist in pain with her team around her made that week’s cover of the school newspaper. Stu liked Natalie. She seemed more refined than the other girls and was one of the few girls in school that did not tower over him. She didn’t swear all the time like they did and he neither did he. To his way of thinking only stupid people swore all the time because they had nothing better to say. She looked like she could be his sister more than his sister did. This year the only team she was on was the debate team and debate team practice pictures were not as exciting as gymnastics. Still, at the risk of offending her, Stu had other things on his mind.
“That bird looking at us is a snail-kite. There aren’t many around here. They’re mostly in south Florida, and don’t often get this far north into central Florida. It’s a significant sighting.”
“Are you taking his portrait for the yearbook?”
Stu ignored the sarcasm. “If I can get close enough. Don’t scare him away.”
“Sorry, I was texting my mom to tell her I would be late from school,” Natalie whispered. “I didn’t mean to step on your foot.”
“It’s not like it’s such a long walk. Can’t she wait until you get there?”
“No. Oh, look, he tipped his head.” Natalie tipped her head as she made eye contact with the bird. “What does that mean?”
Stu glanced at her long enough to smile. “He’s thinking. He hasn’t figured us out.”
Stu lifted the camera to his eye and braced the long lens with one hand and his elbow on his bent knee. The camera clicked three times.
“Did you get him? Can I look?”
“In a minute.”
“He’s moving his wings,” Natalie said. “Oh, he pooped.”
“He’s going to fly. Back up!”
“Why?”
The bird hopped up, stepped off the branch, and spread its wings. Stu stood and tracked it with his camera, clicking off a frame every second or so. He stepped back and stepped on Natalie’s foot. She squealed, and the bird flew away.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare it.”
“It’s okay. We can look at the pictures now.” Stu held the camera so Natalie could look in the display.
“Wow, you got so close. You can see the feathers on his head.” Natalie frowned. “He looks mean.”
“Oh, but he’s not mean. He’s a snail-kite. Snail-kites are only mean to snails. That’s all they eat. That’s why you don’t usually see them this far north. They go where the food is.”
“Oh, look, you got one with his wings spread all the way out. I can see the color under his wings. How pretty. How did you do that?”
“I caught the light. If he turned the other way, we would have seen shadow. It’s luck.”
“It’s not all luck. You were waiting for him. I scared him away. I’m sorry.”
“He’s been in that tree every day after school for a week. There must be snails in the mitigation area.”
“And you come every day to take his picture? Will you come back tomorrow?”
“I got the picture I wanted. See, this one showing the coloration under his wings. I bet Mr. Daniels I could get the picture.”
“What did you bet him?”
“If I got the shot, I wouldn’t have to cover the dance club show next week.”
“Somebody has to shoot it for the yearbook.”
“Not me. Samantha likes that stuff. She’d enjoy it.” Stu waved his hand to emphasize his point and then stooped down to pick up his jacket from the ground. He had needed it in the morning chill, but the afternoon was pleasantly warm. He slithered into his backpack and slung his camera over his shoulder. When he was satisfied that everything was in place, he pointed along the walkway that was their way home.
My memory of Elias is intimate but brief; I asked him, "what happened, where are you taking me, who are you? Tell me!"
In a calm voice; "Sara hush, you died.
