Wild New York

I’m southbound, riding window-seat in a steel-bodied Amtrak carriage past what is, more or less, my home topography. Do I know it? Ponds never mirror life so perfectly as at daybreak: blackwater and hardwoods under a snow blanket. My travel companions, mother and aunt, pass the time chatting about people they know, and I don’t. …

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Wave Hill in Winter

"I believe we have the noblest roaring blasts here I have ever known on land; they sing their hoarse song through the big tree-tops with a splendid energy that thrills me and stirs me and uplifts me and makes me want to live always. " -Mark Twain, words penned during his 1901-1903 stay at Wave …

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Channeling Muir in The Bronx

When you hike a trail you honor the life, the legend, the man, the beard: John Muir himself. "This great Scottish-American conservationist can be considered the father of our National Parks, and founder of the modern environmental movement. More than anything, though, he loved a walk in the woods." So speaks the trail sign on my …

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