At this time of year I savor the efforts of my fellow residents to brighten the winter landscape with holiday lighting—the more excessive the better.
Blogs & Columns
Mother Nature is at it again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan—but every once in a while, her plans get in the way of mine. Such was the case over the last few days, and my schedule changed accordingly when the first real snowfall of the season prevented me from getting to some of my appointed rounds.
For many of us at this time of year, the phrase “taking down the tree” refers to an activity we’ll find ourselves engaged in when the holiday season winds down.
As far back as the 1800s, private fishing clubs began to buy sections of Catskill rivers to protect their fisheries, because indiscriminate logging and overfishing were taking their toll on native trout populations.
I’m having a hard time getting in the spirit this season. November knocked me out, first with a killer flu complete with fever, bad dreams and a deep cough, then a residual vertigo and persistent ennui. My daughter cooked our Thanksgiving dinner, which we limited to immediate family to prevent transmission of the virus.
Boy, is it ever! Even before the Thanksgiving leftovers are gone, Christmas & Co. is in full swing throughout the Upper Delaware River region—and beyond. Although Hanukkah is early this year, (12/13) I’m rarely overwhelmed by latkes, dreidels and chocolate coins, but Christmas? Uh huh.
The memories of ruffed grouse are usually of one or two birds at a time flushing suddenly from their hide and disappearing rapidly between the trees of the forest in a flourish of noisy wing beats. Hunters and other people who frequent the ruffed grouse’s habitat will say that the grouse is one of the most secretive birds in the woods.
Uh oh. If that’s the case, then I am in big trouble. I’ve had food issues my entire life, stemming from the fact that I never really cared. Honestly, if I had my druthers, I’d take a pill three times a day to satisfy my dietary requirements. Since that’s not possible, I eat when I have to, but not necessarily because I want to.
The trunk from Russia currently sits in my bedroom here in French Woods, NY. In the off season I store our winter coats and snow clothes in it. Sometimes I stash Christmas presents in the old, heavy trunk. It rests, inconspicuously, in the corner under the east window.
I’m not big on awards shows. Don’t get me wrong—it’s kind of cool when folks are acknowledged for one thing or another, especially when it’s by their peers. And it’s not sour grapes, either, since I’ve received one or three over the years.