66 Square Feet (Plus)

Austere, like the flavor of autumn olives. Clear, tart, enough sweetness to keep your attention. But definitely autumn. _____________ daily ...

  The water comes up, and then it goes down, and then it does it again. This is high tide, and we perched on the edge to picnic. But at low ...

Is one morally bound to discuss acts of war, if one is a(war)e of them, while walking in the autumn woods of a Maine shoreline, Downeast? Di...

In the middle of the summer-humid woods in the Hudson Valley is a stream where we picnic after hunting for chanterelles.  Above: August,  20...

We lurch from apocalypse to apocalypse. Choking wildfire smoke, and now, unprecedented rainfall. Brooklyn escaped Sunday night's floodin...

Some likened our apocalyptic skies this week, and the pervasive smell of smoke, to 9/11. But the smell of the Canadian wildfires was mislead...

Lilacs, waiting for friends to come to Friday supper.  I bought the bunches at the Union Square farmers market on Wednesday, and, true-to-li...