BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS
By the time you read this I’ll be on a plane that’ll deliver me from my northern Point A to a southern connection that’ll then deliver me...
By the time you read this I’ll be on a plane that’ll deliver me from my northern Point A to a southern connection that’ll then deliver me...
(fp note: since this piece was published as my submission to the TU Blogger Tour competition, I was selected by a panel of magazine...
live and live bigger there is no dying even when we are long dead
automatic traffic planes whine below city sound city life even in almost single-digit daylight still busy full moving this is Friday...
Hi, my name is Matt and I like trade shows. True — I have not ridden an entire seasonal circuit (or two or ten) in a booth as an...
A chalkboard on the front porch of the general store in the small Adirondack hamlet that our cabin is loosely associated with had the...
yesterday evening I sat where I sit now waiting for whitetails to materialize snow was falling and geese filled the graying skies ...
There is a constant truth in these waters. Their direction and existence an age-old story told whether one or many or none listens. ...
I was elected and served a two-year term on the Canandaigua City Council back in 2009. My decision to run was based on my need to not...
We were only two full days into our 10 day trip, but I felt as though we’d been in camp for weeks. It could be the comfort and confidence...
In grad school I was working on a poetry manuscript about the Mississippi Delta Blues. Two roadtrips from Virginia rolled me through...
We’re going back to Idaho. By “we” I mean Grant Taylor and me, plus a few others. To say that last year’s trip was a profound experience...
6:30 a.m. skiff running wide open and silent but for the already warm racing wind sun starting its upward creep steady growing fire and...
A shorter version of this story originally appeared in the Summer ’12 issue of Canandaigua Magazine. I could have called someplace else...
Islamorada, I’m here and everything about you is foreign to me. Timeless retro hotel and diner and marina signs. Languid, saronged women...
It was a typical Memorial Day weekend. Painting, yard work, porch-step repair, cleaning out the barn, some father-son-son fishing and, of...
Cam Smythe was many years and many miles from his small-town childhood in the woods and water of Upstate NY. The quick smile, quiet...