If memory serves me, the first time I met John Randolph, under brisk, gray November skies, he could have passed for a hardscrabble Vermonter, head capped, bib overalls covered by a dark sweatshirt and insulated vest. The morning was frosty. He was scurrying to get chores done with his family together for Thanksgiving at his […]

What better time to wet your line than under cool skies backdropped by brilliant colors reflected in the glassy water surface? It’s New England at its finest; at least that’s how I view it, and judging from the annual fall tourism trade, outsiders concur. From what I’ve seen thus far in the uplands, it looks […]

This one came to me by e-mail from a Hatfield filly who keeps me posted from time to time, both of us being South Deerfield natives, she closer in age to my baby brother. It’s a good tale; worth sharing; about a bruiser buck that died in an unusual manner, just before dark on the […]

Thursday, March 06, 2008 It should come as no shock that the ”apparent” wolf shot in Shelburne last fall was confirmed by DNA analysis to be a wild Eastern gray or timber wolf, the likes of which has reportedly been seen many times in recent years but not killed here in Franklin County for more […]

The upland bird hunting season opened Saturday and shotgun reports could be heard throughout the valley on a bright, crisp, colorful autumn day. For what it’s worth, personal observation points to a down year for ruffed grouse. That early assessment is subject to change as the young season progresses, but after brief fruitless visits to […]

State Deer Project Leader Bill Woytek had an interesting take on the rabid bobcat that went on a rampage through the Greenfield Meadows last month on a sultry Saturday afternoon before being killed by law-enforcement officials. “I guess it has something to say about the many mountain lion sightings reported over the years,” he said. […]

A soft cool breeze tickled my right eardrum, caressed the tip of my nose and carried my scent in a northeasterly direction, toward the small stream exiting a massive beaver pond a hundred or more yards north. The clock was the sunset shadow creeping up the eastern ridge before me. I knew that once the […]