Some mornings here at home remind me of past trips to the ocean. I know that might sound strange, there’s no beach or pounding surf anywhere to be found here in upstate New York. But …
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THROUGH MY LENS: A trip to the beach
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FRESH OFF THE PAGE: One last bright day
I got the feeling that today was the end. The last day of relative warmth, of feeling heat in the sunshine, of hearing the buzz of a bee in the yard at noontime. I vowed to get …
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THROUGH MY LENS: Incognito
I love finding walking sticks. They are masters of camouflage so I’m always pretty impressed with myself when I manage to see one. This guy wasn’t too hard to spot, however. I’m not sure why …
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Around the Farm: Breaking out the rake
Most people who come to my house love all the trees. I do too. The yard is full of maples, oaks and black locusts. They are like old friends and I’m proud many of them …
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Finding the Old Oak: A Love Story
Barbed wire pierced the trunk, bark having grown up and around it, becoming a part of the tree itself. Roots as wide as my arms and legs tumbled down into and ran among the gray stones. It was hard to tell where the tree started and the wall began. At that point, it didn’t really seem to matter: They were one, the wall and the tree, as they had been for a century...
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Capturing eternity in an hour: painting in the great outdoors
The rest of the afternoon I spent painting, looking out on the ever-changing landscape that is water and sky. I had never painted in the great outdoors before, and it had it's fair share of challenges. Like, how do I keep up with the colors when the light changes all the time? But I finished my little painting in just a few hours...
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THROUGH MY LENS:
One of my favorite spring wildflowers is the trout lilly. They grow in vast groups through the woods surrounding my pond, tiny armies marching their way beneath trees, around rocks, and through shrubby undergrowth. Every spring I …
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FRESH OFF THE PAGE
Two lives now to bury, Weighed on my heart – Once separate, now equal, Both fragile and short; One lived high in the trees, The other along the ground; No more sunning or sliding, No more sweet, cheerful sounds...
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Spending some down-time
I returned home earlier this week from a short but much-needed trip to the ocean. This time it was to Florida’s Gulf Coast, the more tropical and laid back side of the state, in my opinion. Right …
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FRESH OFF THE PAGE
This poem was inspired by this past weekend’s annual ritual of cleaning up after the small army of maple and locust trees in my yard. I like to believe that if I can find beauty in even a small …