A lightbulb just went on in my head and I started to look at my surroundings in a new light. It’s berry season! My eyes started to look left and right rather than straight ahead, always on the prowl for the right bush with a hint of color between the green leaves. Usually one to stride with purpose, I began to meander, stopping to gather and munch, just like my hero, Little Sal, in Robert McClousky’s, Blueberries for Sal. A lost golf ball became a delicious reason to hunt, and there was nary a time that I didn’t emerge from the foliage with berries in hand. Now I’m sure that…

Our little section of Maine has become a hot bed for oyster beds. I’m sure there is a scientific reason for that, but that’s above my pay grade. All I know is that everywhere you look, there’s another oyster farm and retail outlet. As such, oyster prices are very reasonable. That seems to be the case most places, because the oyster industry’s main outlet for sales, restaurants, has, understandably, seriously shrunk. While I feel bad for the oysterers, we, the consumers, benefit from lower prices. Sam Sifton in The New York Times wrote about that phenomenon this week in his article, Know Your Food. Among other things, Sam encourages you…

Six years ago, my friend Shellie and I followed through on a promise to hike the entire New Jersey section of the Appalachian Trail (“AT”), thinking that it would be a simple endeavor. We soon learned that New Jersey is longer than wider; the trail measured 72 miles, and when done, in single day hikes of 7-10 miles, would take us four years to complete. A feat that we finally accomplished two summers ago! Happily, the journey gave us many gifts. First of all, we both fell in love with the AT. We quickly learned to trust and treasure the perfectly placed white blazes and the carefully crafted footholds through…