I was very pleased by the response to last month’s column about the potential power of love to transcend nationality and ease intercultural tensions. Hopefully it struck a chord.
Lately I have been considering what it must be like to hibernate like a little furry animal in a knothole or like a bear, cradled in the warmth and black oblivion of its own fur.
Anticipation was the name of the game over the last few days, as the excitement surrounding Resorts World Catskills (RWC) built to a crescendo and its doors were flung open for the first time last Thursday morning.
This is the time of year when ice is plentiful on the lakes and rivers, a central factor in explaining why we see so many bald eagles over-wintering in our region. During these cold months, many eagles migrate from northern New England and Canada to spend the winter here.
I have a not-so-secret vice: I love interior design, and I have tear sheets going back decades. I am addicted to home improvement shows. I thrill to see those neglected houses brought back to life and made appropriate for the way we live now.
Let’s face it: Valentine’s Day can be rough, and not just for the single folks out there. If one is in a committed relationship of any kind, there’s an inherent expectation of flowers, candy and jewelry sparkling in the candlelight of romantic dinners being held all over the world on February 14th.
For fans of the bald eagle, the future is looking much brighter, thanks to the efforts of regional heroes whose love of this iconic raptor and its habitat has led to legacies that will last well beyond their lifetimes.
In 2015, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) issued permits to two corporations that own portions of New York’s upper Beaverkill River. Those permits allowed contractors to place multiple structures in the river.
We are actors in a break room in an office building on the far west side of Manhattan. It could almost be any city bordered by water for all the new office buildings going up around it. I hardly recognize my hometown anymore, especially in neighborhoods that once lay fallow.
For the third year in a row, the folks at the Roscoe Beer Company have thrown a party of epic proportions, proving once again that Trout Town is (IMHO) the place to be.