rural essays

A collection of 43 posts

emerald ash borer

To Explain

The very branches where fathers courted mothers, and later supervised the first flight of youngsters, will be gone.

Other Musings

What’s in Your Pocket?

What are you thankful for, I asked? What travels with you?

winter

A Conversation With My Boots

The boots are all business at these times, plodding forward like draft horses, saddled with crampons that grab the ice underfoot.

Other Musings

Bare Trees

Nature...does not usually confront us with the piled-up carcasses of once living things—not, at least, in the normal course of business.

Deer season

Good Luck, Little Buck

Deer season starts today in New Hampshire, and this is no time for attitude if you are a handsome buck.

Other Musings

Thanks for Working Today

Since we were together last, I attended a college reunion of sorts in Schenectady, New York. It was the 200th anniversary of the fraternity I belong to, and let me point out, I was around for the 150th. On the appointed evening, there was the obligatory reception and dinner, which

autumn

Of Free Will and Graders

Free Will and Graders 10 3 25 123 PM0:00/326.93399092970521× We live along a dirt road, and the big news this week was the town arriving to grade it. This happens once in the spring and once in the fall. Sitting outside on our porch, we can usually

grandchildren

Ever Seen a Lizard Dressed as a Wizard?

Science is not the concern of Postcards from Monadnock. Wonder is; more specifically, wondering.

Other Musings

When the Inspector Calls

A singer’s got to sing, a dancer’s got to dance, and an inspector's got to find stuff.

August

The Culmination of Days

One goose honked until it was hoarse—until anyone could have understood its anguish. ‘Help!’ it was screaming. ‘My baby!’

Other Musings

When the Rain Came

I wanted to know how well we did at our cabin in the woods recording eight inches of rain . . . It turns out, we can run with the big dogs.

Other Musings

Les Grandes Vacances

What we would do if France did not have Les Grandes Vacances, which sends the country into a state of hibernation every August?

Other Musings

Blindfolded Canoe Racing

There is something about blindfolded anything that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom: you do not see chickens daring each other to cross the road blindfolded.

ticks

Eat, or be Eaten

I am all about live and let live these days, with one—well, two—current exceptions: ticks, and mosquitos.

Spring

(Human) Nature

“Travel,” read the sign on a Seine River cruise boat, “is the ethic of caring for the world.”

rural essays

Tell Him Not to Feed the Bears

But there he was, busy pulling, twisting, adjusting, exchanging one tool for another from his leather belt in an easy motion.

maple syrup

800 Words on Maple Syrup and Wiper Fluid

You may be thinking, is he really postcarding about washer fluid behavior?

Other Musings

Lost in the Woods

For example, there is the possibility of getting lost in the woods . . .in freezing temperatures. I did this last week.

Other Musings

Walking on Ice

It is a superior feature of winter to be able to step onto a frozen pond or lake, and we have many of them. It is liberating.

February

February

We made it. February. Now the year can really begin.

Other Musings

Our Town

I kept thinking . . . all these people are paying what it costs to buy food for a week to hear what Mr. Wilder can share with them about life . . . . in our small corner of the world.

Other Musings

Wood Heat

Heating with wood is a complex business . . . one manufacturer described the process as more art than science.

Jarvis Coffin

Home Again

It is good to get out of the woods now and then. Even Huck would agree.

Michaelmas

Michaelmas

We celebrated Michaelmas—the feast of the Archangel St. Michael, as well as his compatriot Gabriel (I think also the other Archangels)—by pulling up our carrots.

Other Musings

Fall

Within a second of its release from a branch, an acorn falls to earth at the rate of approximately thirty-two feet per second, or about fifty-seven miles per hour. How do I know this? I looked it up on the internet. There was the answer—which has me thinking that