Every March, Front Street in Scituate is lined with families. We all stand elbow to elbow, exchanging greetings but also assessing each other's children. It will eventually be a ruthless competition between them to grab candy thrown from parade floats. I'm usually the one to say, "Don't worry, honey, you'll get a piece next time." I have stepped in someone's discarded gum, and as I struggle to lift my foot, I wonder which of my two sons will retreat crying with his hands on his ears when he hears a gunshot. But, of course, the gunshot will not be heard for another hour. Nor will the fire engine sirens, which could also land either of my sons in therapy. We will not see the clowns, the old fashioned cars, the marching bands for what seems to be an eternity. Every March, Scituate's St. Patrick's Day Parade attracts thousands . . . and up to two hours early so they are sure to find the perfect place to look on.

Suffice it to say that I didn't love a parade . . . . until last year, that is. Last year, the parade committee hired me to photograph the parade. I spent two hours at Gates Intermediate School and Central Field where all of the marchers convene before the parade starts. I felt and saw the energy of people anxious to put there feet to the pavement with the utmost pride. I talked to members of marching bands, men in kilts, Irish step dancers, clowns, and people riding horses that they have raised, nurtured and groomed since birth. I talked to people in Gargoyle costumes and people with green hair with shamrocks on their cheeks. Those were the people who marched simply because they have the spirit of Scituate Harbor as the Irish Riviera.

It was as if I had a backstage pass to meet the people who are the iconic Scituate St. Patrick's Day Parade. I bore witness to the camaraderie; the levity, if only for a day; the noble intention to pay homage to Scituate, our country, and St. Patrick; .and mostly, the wish to make people laugh during uncertain economic and political times. Who had I thought I was before last year? Cantankerous does not do me justice. But, life, to a degree, is about opening your mind and hopefully stumbling upon an opportunity to change for the better.

I love a parade.                           

By Erin Heffernan

Erin Heffernan is a photographer in Scituate. Her Wink South series, "Shutter to Think", explains how looking at life from a different angle, even if it's via the viewfinder, can offer valuable lessons (and sometimes comic relief!).