Author Archives: Gary Sanderson

A South Deerfield, Mass., native, Gary was the longtime sports editor at the Greenfield Recorder, a daily newspaper in Greenfield, Mass., where he retired in June 2018, having worked parts of five decades over 39 years. A senior-active, nearly 40-year member of the New England Outdoor Writers Association and the Outdoor Writers Association of America, his Thursday column "On The Trail" ran for nearly 40 years, ostensibly focusing on fish and wildlife, conservation and issues pertaining to them in the Connecticut Valley, where his roots reach deep into its oldest burial grounds. He and wife Joanne live in a historic Greenfield Meadows tavern today known as Old Tavern Farm, which has a rich history dating back to the mid-18th century. The home, which became a National-Register-of-Historic-Places building on his watch, served as a small, seasonal bed and breakfast from 1999-2015. Gary's other interests include history, anthropology, archaeology, literature, genealogy, Americana, country auctions, and early-American architecture and landscapes, as well as hunting, fishing and especially reading. His primary focus is the Pioneer Valley, its people, places and critters.

Troubling Taboo

We call it “The Canopy,” a formal upstairs bedroom capping the southeast corner of our home’s main block, an 1827 addition by the last of three consecutive Samuel Hinsdales to own the property. I typically sleep there when my grandson supplants me in my downstairs bed, but this was the first time we had two […]

Passion and Panic

I knew before pulling out my desk chair Wednesday morning that it was dangerous. I could sense it. Why had I picked up that morning phone call, breathed that refreshing air on my walk, watched Chubby freewheel like I once did many years ago, just the thought of it spinning my wheels into another realm? […]

Birthday Moon

It’s here, summer solstice, new moon. Beware! Things are haywire. What a loony lead-up to our longest day. It all started Friday on my daily rounds with the dogs when — Bingo! — back of the hayfield, orchard grass standing tall, bobolinks perched on hardy weed shafts, fluttering, hovering, I saw an uncommon sight, actually […]

Mystery Ramble

Pancho was a bandit boys His horse was fast as polished steel Wore his gun outside his pants For all the honest world to feel. Pancho met his match you know On the desert down in Mexico Nobody heard his dying words Ah, but that’s the way it goes. “Pancho and Lefty” Townes Van Zandt […]

Ascutney Fork

Traveling north on the interstate along the west bank of our Great River, it is near the large green Bellows Falls sign where, under clear skies, pointed Mt. Ascutney first calls — its distant, faded peak towering above nearer foothills. Long before roads existed, this distinctive Vermont peak served as an important landmark for approaching […]

Run Stopper

The sweet aroma of small, white, multiflora-rose blossoms overwhelms Sunken Meadow this week, and the same uplifting scent, accompanied by complementary mock orange and pink weigela, brings refreshing air to my front parlor as well. So I can’t say I’m surprised by the rapid halt to Connecticut Valley anadromous-fish migration, which today is at a […]

Running Wild

The orchard grass is in places chest-high, with fragrant pink weigela bushes in bloom, turkey season winding down and shad running like gangbusters leading up to Memorial Day Weekend. I just discovered that the annual Fort No. 4 reenactment in Charlestown, N.H., is next weekend. Can’t wait. I think I’ll take both grandsons this time. […]

Nesting

A wet, sticky week. Nesting season. Signs everywhere. Just this morning, Wednesday, on our daily romp, the dogs and I bumped into an average-sized snapping turtle of the most ornery countenance in a shallow puddle not far from a beaver pond. Chubby found it, knew better, barked and kept his distance. Lily really didn’t bother […]

Springtime Capsule

Steamy and sticky it was for our Wednesday-morning walk, the dogs now kenneled and my brow still perspiring from the romp around Sunken Meadow, where we caught the sights, the sounds, the scents, the sweet smell of spring overwhelming, four interesting mushrooms, large and showy, sprouted along the fallen trunk of a chestnut oak. I […]

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