I was 40,000 or so feet above the North Atlantic a few days ago, on my way back to the States after nearly a year away. I was speaking with my seatmate, a young German grad student in economics, who was traveling to Canada to visit his Colombian girlfriend, who’s at university near Toronto.
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There are many theories as to why I am always so cold. My family likes to speculate on why I am always dressed in multi-layers. Why does she always have a sweater on—even in July? I confess: today I have on three.
“Curiosity killed the cat!” my mother used to warn, wagging one of those finely manicured fingers in my face. “Face it,” she’d say. “You’re too nosy.” Hmmph. “I am not!” I would shoot back.
January 10 was my designated day to perform my part of the New York State Mid-winter Eagle Survey. The target day for New York has usually coincided with the “fly day” (or days), when the aerial portion of the survey was flown.
So far, 2018 has been a rollercoaster that knows only one direction—and it ain’t up. I might have mentioned having contracted the flu, which began Christmas day and hung in far longer than anticipated, but that issue seems to be fading away.
As we were coping with a third weekend of deep freeze, my inner optimist searched for things to be grateful for. First, I am grateful that we’ve had a good share of brilliant sunshine on many of these frigid days, which lifts the mood if not the thermometer.
Now that we’ve added a new term to our vocabularies and weathered the wild winds and brutal temperatures of the past week and its “bomb cyclone,” it’s time to reflect on the awe-inspiring survival strategies of our backyard birds and the role we can play in their welfare.
The recent polar vortex had its grip on the Upper Delaware River and the entire region. Most of our rivers are now iced in, and fly fishing is out of the question without distant travel. It will be a long time before we wade again and scan the Delaware’s pools for rising trout.
I can’t tell you the name of the show, or the network, or the stars I may have played next to, but I can give you a glimpse inside the day of a background player on a TV series being made on the set of a major studio in New York City.
Sitting at my desk trying not to listen to the drip, drip, drip of the kitchen faucet (you all know why) behind me, my mind wanders as I steel myself for the task at hand… cleaning up the desktop files from the previous year and preparing to begin anew.