The Morning

Yesterday morning, I was out of the house by 5:45 am with my goal of being on the battlefield as it opened at 6. Well, because I literally live right down the road from the battlefield, I arrived about 10 minutes early....but I was there. So at 6am, I parked my car at the parking lot for Little Round Top and as it was still dark out, I made my way, very slowly to the top.

Just as I arrived at the top of the hill....which isn't a very far walk, but in the darkness, it seemed like forever, the first rays of the sun were starting to flicker in the sky. One thing that I did notice in the darkness was that it was going to be a very foggy morning. I love the fog.

So, as the first rays were appearing and the ground was starting to lighten up, I pulled up a rock and sat to enjoy the show. From the top of Little Round Top, you can't see the actual sunrise, but you can see the affects of it on the valley below....which was my goal for the morning.

As I sat there, I was able to listen to the birds, who seem to be louder right before the sun comes up (I wonder if its true or if it just seems that way). Occasionally a wild animal (gophers, rabbits, etc) would run from bush to bush....but nothing that I could really see. There's something about being on hallowed ground all alone in the early morning light.

The rays of sunlight showed just what I thought, a thick layer of fog right over the battlefield....but only over in the fields where Pickett's Charge took place. Directly in front of me it was just "ribbons" on fog laying over the field.

As I sat there taking in the beauty of the morning, I started thinking about the men who fought here. I wonder what their morning was like? Was it peaceful? Did they have fog? Then I thought about what it must have been like for them to fight out there: the heat of the day, the sun beating down on them, the noise, the sights of the dead and dying, the smoke. In the coolness of this particular morning, I wasn't able to feel what they felt or see what they saw, but the feeling of dread was something that started to build up inside of me. How did they do what they did? I really don't know if I could have done it. I don't know how they did it.

Looking down on Houck's Ridge, I thought about Smith and his battery trying to climb the hill to stop the Confederate advance. The hill they climbed looked so small and innocent. But once down on that hill, it proves to be steep and rocky. How did they ever get those guns up there? In the early morning, I could almost hear the men shouting as they pushed those guns up that hill.....the sounds of the cannons blasting.....the muskets shooting.....the wounded yelling.

I sat and thought these thoughts for a good 45 minutes before someone else showed up on the hill. I knew at that point that it was time to move on. The magic of the morning had ended. But to sit and almost feel as if transported back in time was a powerful thing for me to experience. I look forward to my next travel back in time.