Dagnabits

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Location, Location, Location

Methinks this guy's real estate broker sold him a bill of goods. No customers are getting through that screen and once I open the window, he's going to know he's not in Kansas anymore. 

Bull Hill

Bull Hill

When I gave up commuting to freelance nineteen and a half years ago, I envisioned a lot more days like today. I worked for three hours this morning, then "played hooky," as Bruce Bolger, my companion and guide, put it. 

We hiked a moderate 4.5 mile trail up and down Bull Hill, also known as Mt. Taurus, in the Hudson Highlands north of Cold Spring, N.Y. It was a glorious day in many ways, starting with the weather (starring the elusive sun) and the scenery that first inspired Thomas Cole, unwitting

We Are All Iranians Today

I have been following tweets and YouTube videos out of Iran for a few hours and I feel totally drained, as if someone close to me had died. This raw footage, or this, is so much more powerful and graphic than the filtered news reports we are used to. It's inspiring at the same time, but ultimately frustrating.  What can we do but bear witness? That seems so inadequate. 

We're conditioned for the voice of the omniscient reporter to put it all in perspective, but the relentless, unedited tweets from the streets (and elsewhere) drum home an undeniable message: Hundreds of thousands (millions?) …

Sunset, June 19, 2009

Sunset, June 19, 2009

We saw sun today. It left gloriously. I do hope it returns tomorrow, but the forecast is bleak.

Up the Hudson Without a Paddle

Up the Hudson Without a Paddle

i love June. Simply adore it. It is the antithesis of February. "Everything is fresh with promise," Louise Hubbard pointed out to me as we walked the Rowley's Bridge trail Saturday morning. Everything was also overgrown with Japanese knotweed, but let's put that aside.

A flotilla led by a replica of Henry Hudson's Half Moon passed our village Saturday afternoon as part of the quadricentennial celebration of Hudson's original voyage. Other ships included Pete Seeger's Clearwater.

I can't imagine what the natives were thinking as the Half Moon passed. …

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