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Columnists

The Mast-Head: Spring in the Duneland

There are better ways to keep records than writing in pencil on an exposed two-by-four in the basement, yet it works. For almost 20 years I have been noting the date when the first spring peepers sing out from the swamps alongside Cranberry Hole Road. And, for almost as long, I have marked the arrival dates of the earliest osprey.

Mar 24, 2021
The Shipwreck Rose: Lest Ye Be Judged

In my salad days in Manhattan, my friends and I would play a barroom game in which we judged people by their footwear: a sort of reverse fortune telling in which you observed the sartorial selection and made a Gypsy-like pronouncement about who the wearer was. This was the 1990s. An adult male sporting unscuffed Top-Siders with no socks was judged to be a recent grad of Cornell or Duke — possibly Dartmouth — lately arrived on Wall Street, who still kept a poster of Pamela Anderson from “Baywatch” on his wall.

Mar 24, 2021
Gristmill: The Noyac Road Blues

When a country lane becomes an infernal, rushing, nonstop artery.

Mar 24, 2021
Point of View: Remember That Name

I had to say I wasn’t breastfeeding in order for my CVS questionnaire to be accepted, but, what the hell, I’ll say anything to get a shot.

The one I’m to have Sunday, at Mattituck’s CVS, will be my second, and then, two weeks hence, I presume I’ll be home free. Mary is to have hers at the same place the day after mine. Why they couldn’t do us both at the same time I don’t know, but we consider ourselves lucky to get them.

We’ll continue to wear masks and to wash our hands more often than we would have in the past, of course, wanting, as ever, to be good citizens.

Mar 24, 2021
The Mast-Head: The Fall of a Junk Tree

A beleaguered Norway maple in the Star office driveway was brought down this week. How it had survived where it was, surrounded by bluestone pavement, was a testament to these trees’ toughness. In recent years it had begun to shed large branches, which hung up ominously above parked cars. But it also shaded the south side of the building in the summer, providing a screen of green leaves between my office window and the rest of the world.

Mar 17, 2021
The Shipwreck Rose: Reflections on the Pond

­ ‘Water, in some respects, is like the Gospel, free, but he who diverts it from its accustomed channels will, in the end, find it expensive.”

These words of excellent wisdom were penned in 1920 by a graybeard named Samuel H. Miller, who grew up in what is now the Baker House, and printed as a letter to the editor in the March 2 edition of this newspaper.

Mar 17, 2021
Gristmill: Appointment Television

It’s a welcome change that TV has of late become a unifier of families — at least for Marvel fans.

Mar 17, 2021
Point of View: Solace for the Spirit

In light of the generous pandemic aid bill passed this week, legislation designed to lighten burdens, perhaps this country can be said at last to have seen the light.

Mar 17, 2021
The Mast-Head: When Is Spring?

Frost took the twitter from the dawn songbirds yesterday, which made me pay attention to something that had been at the back of my mind: When does spring start?

Mar 10, 2021
The Shipwreck Rose: Rats!

In my youth, the presence of rats — the four-legged kind — in the best zip codes was a source of high humor.

Mar 10, 2021
Gristmill: Bring the Dollars

Economically, now is the time to prime the pump, as F.D.R. said. “Do something,” as he also said.

Mar 10, 2021
Point of View: ‘We Are the Champions’

“So, what is your weakness?” my foot doctor asked. Aside from not being able to move, I couldn’t think of any.

Mar 10, 2021