Opinion

The cancellation of this year’s Fisherman’s Fair, for many decades a banner day in Springs, is blamed on Health Department food prep regulations. It seems the letter of the law has trampled the spirit of the law. 

I cannot remember the last time the full set of window screens went up at the Star office. There simply are too few flying insects around anymore to bother.

I’m a single mom with two teenagers. Let’s discuss.

There was good electoral news out of France, and then England, and now, with Kamala Harris ascending to the top of the ticket, Democrats in this country have something to cheer about.

Just when you needed an emphatic voice on the side of sanity, here comes Billy Bragg.

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.

Two stories about good Samaritans in this week's paper and another heard around the office serve as reminders to heartily thank the lifesavers, first responders, and CPR trainers among us.

Waiting on a new diesel engine for Cerberus, my sailboat. And then waiting some more.

Goodbye to a wonderful citizen who, faithfully, week in and week out, wrote hundreds of letters to the editor of his local paper.

The “Noyack” spelling has strength, certainty. It amounts to a tribute, and it looks good.

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.

We have to listen to the data and the scientists, and what science is telling us now is that the earth is getting hot as hell.

The marsh has been underwater more often this year than the last. I suspect that sea level rise has a lot to do with it.

The water table is very close to the surface here in much of the village and, as the climate changes and the rains increase, it’s only rising.

A dip at Noyac's Long Beach gives rise to thoughts of where a guy's been, and what's been happening on the South Fork over the last two decades.

Down the road I found a cream-colored, brown-speckled pony staked to a post in a farmer's yard. He was stunted, thick-barreled, short-necked. My stack of bills and quarters was enough, and a horsewoman was born.

According to federal statistics, child drownings continue to be the leading cause of death among children from 1 to 4 years old.

Footing is simply shuffling along in the water, toes in the sand or mud, feeling for the characteristic immobility and sharp edges of a clam alive in its shell.

Is this July 9 birthday coincidence not astonishing? Daughter, father, grandfather, and best friend?

In a resort community like ours, there are beach days . . . and then there are days when there is, as the kids complain, "nothing to do."

The Fourth of July in 1827 was the day that slavery officially ended in New York State.

Those doing this duty are the unsung heroes of the waterways, ridding potentially thousands of gallons of wastewater from boats from the region’s most precious resource.

It was a track athlete’s worst nightmare, and now the defending 800 meters gold medalist won’t be going to the Paris Games this summer.

The love of objects isn’t necessarily symptomatic of greed. Sometimes they become an extension of who we are, and a tangible sign of our connection to others.

On this Fourth of July, we need to say clearly that the American flag belongs to us all, not one political party, not just one person.

Joe Biden has dedicated his life to public service, but he cannot win this one. The debate of June 27 was a tipping point.

From Memorial Day to Labor Day, Americans typically consume 7 billion hot dogs.

Europeans make fun of Americans for the way we go about grinning and chirping banalities at one another, but we don’t do it because we’re all idiots, but because the smiling, nodding, and have-a-nice-day-ing are folk customs that serve a social purpose.

The New York Post and The Daily Mail seized on the Justin Timberlake D.W.I. stop to sling insults at the arresting officer — who was simply doing his job.

It’s encouraging. It’s worrying. It’s a stopover at Watkins Glen State Park.