The Farthermost View


August 14, 2017

Tags: Grandson, Guns, Conversation

Taking Aim
My Companion and I had a visit this summer from our twelve-year-old grandson and his mother. Heís two inches taller than he was last year, he has braces, and he still wears his beautiful blond hair in a buzz cut, which might look fine on a military man but is not what Iíd prefer to see on a grandson. However, until someone consults me on the style I prefer, I will hold my tongue. (more…)


July 27, 2017

Tags: Monarch butterfly, Native plants, Butterflies, Nature, Milkweed, Gardening

There was a time when I could go to any garden center Ė yea, even unto a big box store Ė and wander through the aisles as if through a wonderland of vegetative possibility. The stunning colors, the surprising shapes of blossoms and leaves, everything was subject to my phytophilia. If it was in a pot and would grow in the ground, I brought it home and planted it. (more…)


July 4, 2017

Tags: Turkeys, Gardening, Dogs

I went over to Sea Call Farm this morning to check on my tomatoes and squash, which I had not seen for a week or so. After parting the waves of purslane and pigweed, I saw that most of my planted things had so far survived. One pumpkin had only one sad-looking leaf, but just about everyone else Ė the tomatoes, the beans, the chard, the leeks, the gladioli, and the white pumpkins Ė was churning out leaves and blossoms like nobodyís business. (more…)


June 28, 2017

Tags: Fiction

My Teddy Bear
One of the problems writers run into on occasion is how to get a character from Point A to Point B. Say you have just completed an exciting scene where Vladimir and Estragon are having a conversation under a tree; now you want to get them into the front row at a beauty pageant, so they can make some comments on the contestants. How do you do it? (more…)


April 28, 2017

Tags: Rain, Meter, Rythm, Iambic tetrameter

THE RAIN is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Why do certain poems like Rain, by Bob Stevenson, stick in our brains and suddenly pop up when...well, when itís raining cats and dogs?? I think itís the rhythm. (more…)


March 5, 2017

Tags: Woodcock, Birds, Mating, Visitors

Yesterday I was standing there ironing when I glanced out the window and saw a mourning dove on the dirt path behind the oakleaf hydrangeas. It was awfully fat. And it was weaving back and forth, as if it had a stomach ache, or was saying to itself Oh dear oh dear, whatever shall I do? (more…)


February 15, 2017

Tags: Deer, Death

Now and then I walk with Pippin and Thurber, the Rescue Squad, in the woods on a piece of public land not far from my home. There are gravel roads running through it that are kept in good enough condition for trucks to use, and there are half a dozen cinder block storage buildings owned by the town. As with any piece of land on Cape Cod, itís not exactly wilderness; but not many people walk around there, which is why I do. (more…)


January 7, 2017

Tags: Marijuana, Martinis

In among the sad, bad, and mad events of the last year, a little bit of glad tidings that I hadnít paid much attention to was delivered. I woke up out of a funk one day and realized that it was now legal to grow, own, and use marijuana in a recreational way. (more…)


November 25, 2016

Tags: Thanksgiving, Shopping

On Thanksgiving morning the Cape Cod Times was about five times fatter than usual, and I knew why. Just one glance and I was the ads. (more…)


November 15, 2016

Tags: Town landing, Osprey

Down next to the town landing thereís a little cottage Iíve had my eye on for a number of years. Now and then itís been occupied, but for the most part itís sat empty, up on a little knoll overlooking the boat launch and the parking lot and Little Pleasant Bay. (more…)