Be forewarned. This is going to be our worst winter in 150 years.
The most wonderful thing I encountered this summer was a formidable bull moose with atypical antlers fully immersed in a small pond soaking in water up to his neck. Only his head was exposed. He looked so at peace with himself and the world.
An Earth Roamer XV-LT5 was parked in the Teton Village parking lot. A satellite dish was positioned on the roof and six exquisitely designed, perfectly square signal lights on the back were all lit up.
My squirrels have packed their bags. I’m heartbroken. For a week now, Rollo, my trusty Shih Tzu, and I have been stunned as our friends the squirrels carry pinecone after pinecone out of our shady nook, across a rather long fence, then race across the street to my neighbor’s house to stash t…
How could I be hopelessly out of style at the dump? Why was I even at the dump?
There’s nothing funny about jugglers, especially the juggler I saw on the corner, in front of Wilson Hardware on the busiest Saturday of the summer in downtown Wilson.
There is a pterodactyl-size wasp staring at me through my living room window screen. Intermittently it rams his head, then his body, with brut force in an attempt to get inside the house. He’s freaky. Simultaneously the world’s biggest bumblebee just flew into the Siberian pea bush, waiting …
Whiskers are sprouting up all over. In my neighborhood chock-full of 30-something fishing guides, mustaches and sideburns have become the rage.
If it hadn’t been for COVID I might never have stumbled on Ferran Adria’s recipe for the most delicious thing: an omelet using only eggs and a good amount of potato chips. Scramble the eggs in a bowl, add a few handfuls of chips, heat your cast-iron skillet with a generous pat of butter, the…
The complementary bottle of Jackson Hole Airport’s hand sanitizer was a masterpiece of sanitizer chic, not dissimilar to Chanel’s classic parfumerie flask. I clutched it as if it were an amulet before boarding the first segment of my flight to St. Joe, Arkansas, population 125, where I would…
I felt like I was just released from prison. A flower-loving friend and I were on our way to Thanksgiving Point, south of Salt Lake City, to attend the Tulip Festival at Ashton Gardens.
As two blue herons flew overhead, I spotted a trio of buttercups blooming in partially frozen earth as an electric bicycle whizzed by at 20 mph.
Driving down the muddy dirt road I saw two lovely ladies walking a blue duck on a pink leash. I decreased my speed. I looked again. The young woman bent down and scooped the blue duck up into her arms.
I spied the bear eating the berries in the hawthorn tree before he spotted me.
The two young lovebirds craned over the end cap display of Cozy Shack puddings.
I heaved my bag of potting soil onto my kitchen table, grabbed a knife and slit it down the middle. Lowering my head, I closed my eyes to winter’s endless snow and inhaled. Deeply.
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