Lost–and Found

October. The last of the autumn leaves had fallen in the woods surrounding Brant Lake and soon only the stately evergreens would give color to the landscape. These were the final days before the forest would close in, a diorama of brown reaching skyward from a blanket of white. So I set off for one…

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The Lonely Loon

They were proud parents, a pair of loons, a silhouette in the blue sky, heads breaching the surface, the black and white pattern draped over their backs like a geometric blanket. And, every spring, these loons would glide by the point where I live, so close as to be swallowed by the shade from our…

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