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On The Trail

On The Trail: Dire straits

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

It is with heavy heart that I sit in this comfortable, cushioned seat today, cranking out another column, a weekly chore performed for most of my waning 35-year Recorder career. Many things, some I can’t get into but would love to, are distracting my focus, potentially threatening my health. But I’m a strong man, have been backed into many corners over the years and always come out to live another … 0

On the Trail: Dysfunction junction

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Yes, it was indeed April Fools Day, but it was no spoof. Finally, spring had sprung, and the cock cardinal sitting in the burning bush off the inset porch was announcing it to the neighborhood, his joyous morning melody brightening the clear, pleasant air before fading off into infinite clear-blue sky. I celebrated the event by doubling my morning walk over March-brown, soggy … 0

On the Trail: Cougar leftovers

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The brook’s rattling, snaking its way through dwindling streamside ice shelves, the once-bloated woodshed is emptying, the end in sight, my taxes are e-filed, and, well, I guess life is good, notwithstanding Spring Sports Supplement week, which always unleashes a furious scramble before the first “Play ball!” echoes off North Sugarloaf’s red sandstone cliffs so familiar to me as a boy. So here … 1

Strange bedfellows

Thursday, May 16, 2013

A rattler it wasn’t, but still, how would like to find one in your lingerie drawer? Yes, it seems dangerous-looking reptiles are lurking in my neighborhood, and that’s what I’m chasing this week; just another interesting little tale that piqued my interest after arriving as an email tip … 0

Fishing for forgiveness

Thursday, May 23, 2013

That mournful flute was entrancing, spooky. Its deep, hollow, haunting moans filled the bright, airy, riverside chamber called Great Hall and pierced a private internal sanctuary in me that few can penetrate, entering through a slim wound that oozed grief, gushed guilt. The handsome wooden instrument still resonated … 0

Bull Head conclusions

Thursday, May 30, 2013

I’ve been tempted lately to jump back into the anadromous fish fray, for which local gadfly Karl Meyer has so capably taken the baton and sprinted off toward a distant, cluttered finish line. But first things first — specifically closure on the location of Greenfield’s Bull Head Pond, … 0

Riverside rambling

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Monday, the morning after, gray and muggy following hard overnight rains. Heavy wet pods atop waist-high orchard-grass stems droop low, seeds shedding onto my shoe-tops, collecting on the shaft of my tiger-striped chestnut crook cane. My feet are wet, getting wetter with each step as a hidden yet … 0

No escape

Thursday, June 13, 2013

The iron bridge connecting Springfield, Vt., and Charlestown, N.H., is straight and narrow, similar indeed to the live-free-or-die creed of rugged individualism and no taxes on the Granite State side. So, no, I can’t say it’s a bit … 0

River reflections

Thursday, July 18, 2013

That bright sliver of a hot new moon had long ago set in the dawning sky and it was boys’ day on the Green River, three of us, grandfather and grandsons. You know what they say about the apple falling not far from the tree. Well, it was … 0

Cover commotion

Thursday, July 25, 2013

It finally arrived Monday! I was starting to wonder. Truth be told, I had been eagerly awaiting it since dismissing as inadequate the homogenized news reports I had read, watched and listened to following that sad day in April when two curb-side pressure cookers exploded, killing three and … 0

Holiday musing

Thursday, July 4, 2013

The patriotic summer holiday is here, flags are proudly waving to passersby and, yes, my wheels are spinning out of control. So let’s begin with those tall browning hayfields you’ve probably noticed in your travels. If they seem odd, well, they are — the result of prolonged wet … 0

Wounded-knee ramble

Thursday, July 11, 2013

It’s weird how wandering thoughts are triggered. With me, they’re often set awhirl by the senses, this time scent, a soft, alluring sea-borne aroma, fishy and salty, that we all know. Some would wrinkle the bridge of their nose, say “eeeyuew” and run like frightened hare. Not me. … 0

Sixty

Thursday, June 27, 2013

A young colleague I often tease with playful barbs beginning with “Hey Curtis,” then some lighthearted quip, wore a grin as he handed me an old, yellowed, Recorder sports section Tuesday night and said, “Here, I thought you may want to look at this. I found it in … 0

Twists of fate

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Summer’s at the doorstep with my 60th birthday, late, great Mississippi John Hurt finger-picking and singing background blues as I sit here at my customary Wednesday station trying to come up with something. It won’t be difficult. I can feel it. But I really must discipline myself to … 0

Sumac symbolism

Thursday, August 1, 2013

This is not about the moon, though I suppose it could be, because it seems my Cancer existence is always backlit by lunar influence. That beautiful, amber Full Buck Moon has passed and the clear starlit sky has left my midnight driveway dark this week, a blackness that … 0