Autumn just isn’t in the air only. It’s also underfoot.
My wife can be whimsical.
One more scene from from the heart of my town.
This piece of art is a lovely addition to an external wall of Dover’s indoor swimming pool.
I suspect the New Hampshire Children’s Museum had a hand in its appearing.
Unconventional colors, a comforting bedroom.
The joys and opportunities of living in an old house.
I use this Ukraine-made hourglass calibrated to five minutes to time participants in open mic events.
It’s inspired by Merrimack Mic, where I found it very helpful during poetry readings. Writers, including this one, are tempted to go beyond their allotted time.
It’s good to keep it in the corner of my eye when performing, as I also do when I’m hosting.
Sometime after the Twelve Days of Christmas end on January 6, we take our gingerbread decorations outdoors for the wild critters to discover and devour.
Here’s part of a village inserted into a pile of snow on a tabletop.
Looks like it belonged there all along. The squirrels, however, will soon be scampering off with the pieces.
After years of taking the same route, have you ever been startled to look up and see something striking for the first time?
I’ve driven or walked past this almost daily for the past 20 years but simply hadn’t noted the one detail. The 9-11 in the address.
Firefighters across the Northeast feel deeply about their fallen brothers in the World Trade Center attacks, especially those afflicted later by the toxic consequences. Dover’s professionals are no exception, as the mural painted across the back of the Central Station parking lot proclaims.
When I gazed up and saw that hyphen in 9-11, I thought they had inserted it in the street address – 911 – perhaps as a sign of continuing support.
Then my eyes caught the address next door – 7 – and I realized the station sits at 9 and 11 Broadway, where it’s been for more than a century. How coincidental, then, that its address would line up with a much later significance.