A bird the color of a stop sign. High on a tree at the Buttercup Farm Sanctuary. A scarlet tanager. My first sighting. A black-winged red bird.
Tree swallows swooping, the insistent chipping of an elusive flycatcher and the headwaters of Wappingers Creek swirling down to the river. What a great place for a Sunday breakfast.
When I was in the emergency room last year having busted my elbow, a nurse…
Most of us have done it at some point or another - accidentally locked ourselves…
Thanks to the #1970 Club, I've spent the spare moments of the past week immersed…
The #1970 Club is starting tomorrow (October 14th) and I'm prepared with some reading and…
How Do They Live with Themselves? This was the question Roger Rosenblatt asked in The…