The last gasp of summer

I was watching television last night when I heard the Farmers’ Almanac prediction.

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Burnt out

As expected, the whirlwind of the last week of shooting melded into wrap, and before I knew it I was sitting in the living room of my apartment in Brooklyn. The TV blared Nascar in the background as I sat in a daze next to roommates Robin and Ryan.

“How was the shoot?” Robin’s voice echoed.

You know that feeling when you have so many things to say that you don’t know where to begin? The familiarity of the situation makes it seem like no time has passed at all, and at the same time so much time has passed that it is as if you don’t know how to start the story, and even if you did, you aren’t sure how long it will be or how entertaining.

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Educating the Delaware River Basin

It is a complicated river valley.

Throw a few thousand square miles of land, a few hundred miles of river, a few million people into the pot, stir it up and pour it out. You get the Delaware River Basin where we all live, work and play. Competing interests are as far ranging and different as supplying water to Philadelphia and New York City to providing habitat for the tiny, federally endangered dwarf wedge mussel.

I fished the Delaware in the 1980s, moved here in the 1990s and became completely immersed in the politics of the basin shortly after moving here. Watching the rivers nearly run dry from lack of releases from New York City reservoirs prompted yet another group to organize to fight for better releases from the reservoirs.

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