Columnists

It’s been a long time since I owned any shoes that felt worthy of a Polaroid or that seemed to reflect anything in particular about my character or my autobiography.

I wonder if it’s all right to wear warmup pants and a Bonac hoodie to the Press Club of Long Island’s Hall of Fame induction ceremony.

Think what we may about the yearly climate cycle on the East End, some kind of seasonal calendar is needed to anticipate when to take the dahlia and tomato seedlings outside.

How Yondr pouches remade one school’s lunchtime.

If it weren’t for the moon, we wouldn’t be here.

Cold spells, baseballs, and pesky small birds notwithstanding, an osprey’s life seems a good one.

John Edgar Wideman. A fan’s notes.

Under the heading of “Anything worth doing at all will take at least a tiny modicum of effort” I categorize most of life’s pleasures.

Non-adventures with a sofa-loving rescue pup.

If I were a car, what kind of car would I be?

When I wake from dreams, I feel quite peaceful, like the way I felt after my last colonoscopy.

I am happily a morning person, but birds tend to get annoying as the day goes on.