66 Square Feet (Plus)

Meet Morse Jones. They're a groundhog (he/she, we don't know). Morse, for obvious reasons, and Jones, because since the pandemic...

In January the white throated sparrows do not sing. Their song is high and sweet, and pierces the heart, somehow. When they do sing, you kno...

At this end of our apartment, despite a welcome skylight, the afternoon light has become somber. The last roses have been picked, the first ...

We arrived for a short break in Maine just in time for blue weather and sunshine. The woods crowding right down to the water still awe me.  ...

Regal lilies on the terrace. They opened in the night, and this evening we will sit down outside to a scented supper. In all the years that ...

In Green-Wood Cemetery there was a hornet's nest in a Turkish hazelnut tree. It is exquisite. If it was Art, people would line up and wa...

Dear Mr. Springsteen, Thanks to you, the Frenchman (that's my husband) and I saw snow buntings for the first time last Sunday. At Sandy ...

          Photos: Vincent Mounier I give you: gratuitous bird-feeding pictures. A February pleasure, apparently. It has been over a decade s...

Inbetween rainy days the Frenchman and I made our first 2021 visit to Mt Loretto Unique Area, the state park on Staten Island that is a regu...

From the winter terrace, where the daily parade of small things is our entertainment. Some of us have had a better year than others. Many ha...

With the season turning towards fall the Frenchman and I migrate like birds back to the open spaces of Fort Tilden and Breezy Point, situate...