Category Archives: Columns

Published pieces I’ve written, primarily in The Recorder, Greenfield, Mass.

Who is it I Write For, Anyway?

Different strokes for different folks — a threadbare cliché pedantic editors caution against, a principle I generally agree with. Clichés are indeed boring and unimaginative, a lazy-writer’s tool that should be avoided. But there are exceptions to every rule, and who would know that better than I, a rule-breaker from way back? So, given the […]

Spring Romance

I often tell anyone willing to listen that once I reach the top of the steep, mile-long hill behind my home, I consider myself to be in southern Vermont, even though the state line is actually 10 miles in the distance. When you hop the crest of the hill up there, you’ve entered a pastoral […]

Backyard Bliss

A couple of wildlife incidents to report from the home front, one involving a bear related to a bigger story, the other an otherwise insignificant little skunk. First the bear, which appeared out of nowhere in my back yard on the gray evening of Aug. 16, just before 8:30, me in the shower, my wife […]

To Each His Own

The Magnolia sisters, Star and Saucer, white and pink, have opened their furry fists to reach for the warm April sun, mimicked by cousins Daffodil and Forsythia, who introduce radiant yellows to brighten the days. Never appears a surer sign that spring turkey season is here. I happened upon a boss gobbler and four deer […]

Something’s Gotta Go

I enjoyed a brief visit Tuesday from reader Edward M. Wells, an ardent defender of wild brook trout and critic of the Connecticut River Atlantic salmon program who’s been once featured and occasionally mentioned in this space. The retired educator, enjoying tranquil retirement on a gentle Leyden hillside, brought me a reading assignment in the […]

Walking the Dogs

As you look southeast over a sea of tall green grass funneling down to a stately hardwood frame, the Mt. Toby range protrudes from afar with distinction, like a giant molar dwarfing lesser teeth on the lower gum of a worn mouth. Between Toby and me is downtown Greenfield, then the Pocumtuck Range, which rises […]

Hunting Buddies Never Die

I wish I had known, been able to reach out. But now he’s gone, too late to say goodbye. I remember the last time we spoke. It was brief, on my way into the Green River Festival a couple of years ago. His welcoming smile and warm brown eyes, same mischievous glint, were unchanged since […]

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