These days, the world is already here . . . if perhaps only on weekends

The rectangular early 1960s red quarry tile with white grout made everything look wrong

All of a sudden, it seemed as if the sun and we again were in sync

Although lacrosse is much the same basic game as soccer, it is more warlike

One of those rare people whose joy in life is truly infectious

What may seem like no big thing to one person or editor may appear beyond the pale to another

It is said that the Mariners demurred because they didn’t want to lose their identity

I knew writers needed to gather experiences by living fully, even recklessly

We had come to see “Traces of the Trade: A Story From the Deep North,”
Sandra Arnold led the singing of spirituals during a “walk of remembrance” to the slave burial ground at Sylvester Manor on Saturday morning. She was among those who spoke following a screening of “Traces of the Trade: A Story From the Deep North” at the Shelter Island Library the previous night. Sylvester Manor Photo

Oh boy, here we go