When it gets very hot on Shelter Island, chickens lay fewer eggs, turkeys call a temporary truce in the battle for reproductive rights and the horses on Midway Road stand so still that if not for an occasional flick of the withers or tail, I could mistake them for Breyer models. READ
Last week the veil was lifted on a question at the center of both the East End’s culture and its economy: How many Peconic Bay scallops made it through algae blooms, whelk attacks and underwater landslides and landed on dinner tables this season?
The first time I visited my husband’s parents, I noticed that his dad carried a small radio from room to room of their New Jersey garden apartment, tuned to a Yankees game, just the way I carried a radio with me everywhere I went tuned to National Public Radio.
There are birthday celebrations that are given to you, and then there are the ones you give yourself. READ