I woke up at a little after six this morning and my fuzzy eyes were immediately caught by an incredible glow coming in my window. It was dawn, just before sunrise and the entire sky was blazing deep pink and gold. I had my camera just a hand grab away and took some pictures. My friends, the breakfast club juncos were out in force, too. Here are a few pictures of my morning.


What do you see when you look out your window? My view is breathtaking.

There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding. We’ve had a very hard — if brief — winter. We’ve had a huge amount of snow during a rather short period. While it’s easy to not want to be buried up to ones lip in snow and ice, I wouldn’t swap life here in this beautiful valley for city sidewalks. Not again. Been there — for a very long time, including a decade overseas — and am done with that.


Public transport is a wonderful thing. Throughout my New York city childhood and teens, I used the subway as a matter of course. I didn’t even think about it. I rode buses and subways. I was young, spry. And I had no choice.

In Jerusalem, I rode buses. Jerusalem is an old city with narrow roads. The price of petrol was high and parking was scarce, so I didn’t bring my car into the city, but I used is for lots of other things. When I got back to the States and moved to Boston, I never used the T. By the time I moved to Boston, I was done with hauling ass into smelly, noisy subway stations. Sitting in trains packed body-to-body. Moreover, buses have all the same issues as cars. They are subject to the same traffic and tie-ups.

Garry and I lived downtown, in the middle of the city. We could walk most places in halfway decent weather. I had great muscles in my Boston years. I was still agile enough to haul myself and the groceries uphill and not need to call an ambulance afterward. Later, we moved to Roxbury, at the edge of the city. There was plenty of parking on the street and in the parking lot of our condominium. Our doctor was in the suburbs. We did everything except grocery shopping in the suburbs. I was a wrong way commuter when I didn’t work at home.

72-Birds in bush-Sunrise-0310_22

Garry worked at weird hours, so usually, traffic wasn’t a major issue. Then came The Big Dig, the gigantic public works project which tore Boston apart for more than 15 years. We fled to the country and we still live here.

Do I yearn for city life, with its restaurants and convenient public transport? Not really. I like an occasional jaunt into town, but I’ve no desire to live there. I certainly hope I’ve never conveyed that impression. Of course I’d definitely appreciate less brutal winters, but when you add up the columns … positive vs. negative… New England wins every time. I love the culture of the region. I love the natural beauty, the rivers, the valley. The birds. I love the farm around the corner.  The architecture. The intense blueness of state politics.


I’m deeply grateful for the great, universal health care. Amazing health care and state-of-the-art, world-class facilities. And doctors, without whom I’d be dead thrice over.

Pity about the miserable winters … but I’m not going to trade living someplace I love for someplace with easier winters. Not in this life, but maybe next time.


Too Big To Fail — Tell us about something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail (and tell us why you haven’t tried it yet).

Definitely the lottery. No question about it. I have tried it, occasionally, but I’m not big on gambling and I hate losing, so I stopped. But if I’m guaranteed to succeed, well then. I’m in!


Thanks for the kind offer. I didn’t know WordPress had that kind of power. Good to know!


I haven’t gotten out much during the past 6 weeks. Since the first blizzard at the end of January, merely walking up the icy driveway to the car has been a big deal. Roads have been icy, air bitterly cold. Visibility down to zero as the snow falls. Crazy drivers who think their SUV makes them immune to weather, who then have accidents which tie up traffic for hours.


It’s a mad, mad, mad world on the highway, but here in the U.S.A., we love our cars and will drive them no matter what. Besides, a lot of places, you don’t have any choice. Small town America has no public transportation. Not even a taxi. You drive or you walk. Most of us drive.

Today, I had to get to the doctor’s office. It’s a 45 minutes drive, more or less, depending on traffic. As soon as I said “depending on traffic,” I realized Garry and I say that every time we go anywhere. It doesn’t matter what time of year, either. One way or another, it always depends on traffic.


How much time do we spend in our cars? How many weeks and months do we spend sitting, waiting for traffic to clear?  What percentage of our lives do we waste maddened by slow drivers, distracted drivers, stoned or drunk drivers, and plain old bad drivers? I’m sure it’s a calculable percentage for someone sophisticated in statistics. Not me, but someone.

Add together the vagaries of traffic and delays caused by weather — rain, wind, snow, ice, heat. Adding factor “X” to time allowed to travel anywhere from a quick trip to the grocery, to a doctor’s appointment, concert, or 1000 mile driving holiday. Visiting friends, going to work, coming home. Life depends on traffic.


We try to make appointments for times when traffic is light, but no matter how carefully you plan, you can’t control construction, rubbernecking, accidents, or a jack-knifed semi. Or a road flooded by a river risen over its banks or a road which dead-ends at a washed-out bridge.

Whether it’s ice on the road, high winds on the bridge, or a flat tire changer on the expressway — at rush hour — planning only gets you so far. The rest depends on traffic.