Guestwords

The Patchogue-Medford High School class of 1962 gathers, and a novelist gets to thinking.

It can happen here: Applying a professor’s Tourism Area Life Cycle metric is revealing, bordering on bracing.

Plastics come from multiple sources and have been accumulating in the environment for at least 70 years, since they came into our lives.

Remembering the first time I came to the East End 30 years ago also rekindles thoughts of the skyline of India, and my home country’s independence.

Around 9, cars start pulling up and guys meander onto the field, one by one, groggy and disheveled, animated by caffeine and muscle memory. They soft-toss and take B.P. and let the weight of the week rise into the morning mist.

When are our words about a garden, and when are they about our relationship?

A tricky procedure, but one that will undoubtedly take a weight off your shoulders.

It’s hard to forget the surprising togetherness and making-do of New Yorkers plunged into darkness in the worst power outage in American history.

I am a single, cisgender female, American of African descent, of a certain age, with no children or a partner. And I matter.

In 2013 I was obsessed with being an Authors Night author in support of the East Hampton Library. Here’s an inside-the-tent look at the Hamptons’ ultimate book party and benefit.

Now that I am an octogenarian, my sense of risk increases at every turn. At the same time, I have gained an understanding of vulnerability as a character trait that allows me to be more open to what the world may offer.

It’s a rare thing to be part of an all-female crew on a sailboat, and yet that’s where I found myself in the middle of Noyac Bay.