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Low Tide at Mont Saint-Michel
There was a time when you needed to watch the rising sea water if you found yourself on the Mount of St. Michael. The abbey and village were situated on the tidal flats of the second largest bay in the world, off the coast of Brittany. You would cross to the abbey during low tide,…
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Passports 3: Passing Through the Fields of Death
We left Paris on a crisp bright May morning. This was the only day-long excursion we booked in advance. We were going to visit Mont St. Michele in Brittany. The trip would take us four hours one way, in a northwest direction to this 850 year old Abbey mountain. Our route took us through the…
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The Lock Bridges of Paris
Many have called Paris the “City of Lovers”. The Seine River is like the Aorta of Paris. It carries the life-blood of the city past and under some of the most important buildings and architecture this sublimely beautiful city possesses. It’s color is that of some shade of green, not unpleasant, that defies description. By…
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Passports I: East and West of the Sun
The great city of New York was behind us…and the sun was setting in the west. We flew into the approaching darkness of night. As I was planning this blog series, I was sitting on the American Airlines 767 trans-oceanic super jet propelled airplane. My problem, right from the ‘get go’ (God, I hate that…
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The Brick Pond
I grew up in a small town in upstate New York. The name is Owego, which is derived from a Native American term that means “where the valley widens” or something close to that. The village has everything that a typical small American town should have. There is a beautiful cemetery on the hill…
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Good-bye Blip
I will miss the blip. The blip and I go back many, many years. I saw the blip when I was very young but I didn’t know what it was back then. Over the years, the blip took on a special significance when I would look for it in dark movie houses, from the next-to-last…
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The Thing
A few months ago, I stopped at a small country deli for a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich. The store was in Keene Valley, New York. There are fine views of the High Peaks of the Adirondacks from the porch of the deli. I had some brown mustard and low-fat mayo on rye bread. The…
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Sunday Rock
It was raining as I drove along the western edge of the Adirondack Park recently. It was around the time when my thoughts turned to how much weight the Yankee pitcher, C. C. Sabathia, had lost during the off-season. Or, perhaps I was reflecting on Colbert replacing Letterman on the Late Show. More than likely, however,…
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The Rivers of my Life: Episode 1–The Charles
The river rolls on, like a sad lover’s song. But is it the beginning or the end? [Lyrics taken from an educational film I used to show my students when I taught Earth & Space Science in the 1970’s] Flowing water has always held a fascination with me. I grew up with the great Susquehanna…
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The Skeleton in the Taxi
The Division Head in the private school where I taught was very adamant. “All this stuff has to go, Pat. Everything you don’t use in a year should be cleaned out.” I looked around the Middle School lab and began to make mental notes of what needed to be tossed. The chemicals, of course, had…
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