One with Nature

 

I found a special spot in between Jacob Riiss Landing and Breezy Point that has free kayak lessons along with a supply of kayaks to be used for free on the weekends.  The Park Rangers supply everything.  All you have to bring is a pair of water shoes, sunscreen. and, of course, you might want to wear a bathing suit. 

I went on this adventure alone the first time and I was quite nervous and excited at the same time.  The Park Ranger gave me a life jacket and showed me how it should fit properly.  Then he helped me get into the kayak and gave me two paddles. He instructed me on the correct way to hold and use the paddles.  Then he pushed the kayak off the sand and into the bay. 

It was such an exhilarating feeling, to be floating on top of the water and being rocked by the waves. When the nervousness left my body, I actually felt like I was one with the kayak and the water.  It was so beautiful and peaceful. The sun shimmered and sparkled on the surface of the water, making me think a hypnotist was putting me into a trance. 

There was a small island in the middle of the bay, lush with trees and tall bushes. The leaves swayed in the gentle offshore breeze as I imagined the breeze relaxing me in a comfy hammock.  I most definitely felt like I was becoming one with nature. 

After about thirty minutes, I was called to paddle my kayak back to shore.  That broke my “being as one with nature” spell.  I noticed my water shoes were filled with sand, my nose hurt from forgetting to put sunscreen on it and my arms felt like they were going to fall off from all the paddling I did. 

I lost that feeling of being one with nature and became one with my body’s kayaking experience. 

Ellen G.

Learning to Read

 

I have two memories of learning to read. My first is sitting with the Dick and Jane books—yes, I am that old! I was about six years old and could barely understand the words. I felt frustrated, but I kept trying. 

My second memory came when I was about eight. We were moving to a new apartment, and one of the movers called out to another man, asking for a “dolly.” I stopped and suddenly realized that one word could have two meanings. A dolly could be a little girl’s toy—or a small cart used to move things. 

I was shocked and amazed by this discovery. I felt very smart. It was like discovering that words had secret lives of their own. 

I have loved reading my entire life. I love libraries. I love the minds, worlds, and words of writers from all over the world. My thirst for reading and learning has never left me—and I don't think it ever will. 

 Georgia

Silent Rebellion: A Bird Feeder’s Strategy

 

 For years, I’ve fed the wild birds from my third-floor windowsill, delighting my cat and keeping the birds well-fed. Then a neighbor, convinced I was attracting rats, confronted me on my way to the bus stop. His sudden obsession with my routine left me stunned and speechless. For weeks, he followed me, trying to stop my harmless habit. I later learned he was new at the business across the street, and his complaint stemmed from breadcrumbs littering the sidewalk. Rather than arguing, I found a clever solution: I crushed the bread into tiny crumbs, perfect for the birds but invisible on the pavement. In the end, I fought back quietly—not with words, but with a little ingenuity. 

Georgia

Lighthouse

 

There's a lighthouse on the north side of Roosevelt Island here in NYC in the middle of the massive, dangerous East River. It was built in 1872 and designed by James Renwick, Jr.  

 

There are legends about the lighthouse that say a patient from a nearby Lunatic Asylum built a stone fort on the site fearing a British invasion. The fort was later demolished to make way for the lighthouse. To commemorate the story of the patient’s involvement there is an inscription near the lighthouse that reads: “All ye who do pass by may pray for his soul when he dies”.  

 

In the long distant past when my longtime partner died and he was unceremoniously cremated, I had his remains for a while and during that time his soul was restless. Things would go missing; tragedy struck my life, and nothing was right. I knew it was time for him to rest. While alive he liked to fish and enjoyed rivers and oceans.  

 

As a final farewell I wrote prayers and took my daughters to the lighthouse. The three of us had our own ceremony and released his ashes in the East River. From that moment on peace returned, and his restless soul was in repose. All unusual activities stopped and never returned. 

 

All we have left are memories and a lighthouse on the north side of Roosevelt Island in NYC in the middle of the massive, dangerous East River.

Georgia

THE GUILTY PLEASURES OF A LITERARY CORNUCOPIA OF CATALOGS AND RELATED LITERARY COLLECTIBLES

 

Book Row existed from the 1890s to the 1960s on fourth Avenue between Union Square and Astor Place.

By the 1960s skyrocketing rents had whittled away at the inhabitants of book Row until a few financially strapped survivors were able to limp away from the exorbitant rents to set up their stores elsewhere, while others dissolved into literary obscurity. I would have liked to visit those stores that did not make the cut. One of the survivors was the Strand Bookstore which landed at Broadway and E. 12th St. in the East village. Today it is the only survivor from Book Row. One of the survival techniques used by the Strand was a long series of wheeled book wagons which are parked perpendicular to the perimeter of the store surrounding it and supplying the casual passerby, of meager means, with an extremely wide diversity of reading materials, and all at very low prices.

There are many old books, some practically falling apart, which no self-respecting bookworm would choose to inhabit. There are old periodicals and catalogues of every description and subject. I once purchased an auction catalog published by Sotheby’s, at the Strand, for $.50, an extreme bargain compared to the cost of participating in the actual auction while still owning the objects of your fancy in a sense, although not in possession of the physical objects.

The spending of a few intended minutes can turn into hours as your arms become heavy with the accumulation of literary treasures that you cannot pass up, all the while moving around your fellow shoppers in a choreographed dance through the narrow aisles, while trying not to drop your selections. Eventually, you must enter the store to pay for your newly acquired treasures, wherein the passive- aggressive strategy of the Strand pays off, as you are overwhelmed by the size of the literary world that you have been unwittingly lured into like the webs of Shelob in the Lord of the Rings , laid out for Frodo and Company under Mordor, or the Sirens of Anthemoessa Island in the Odyssey luring the sailors to their ruin. In this case, it is a positive experience and you will be enriched by this experience far beyond the few dollars spent on your purchases.

Jim-August 1, 2026

Bun Bun the Bunny

 In a meadow filled with blooming daisies lived a little rabbit named Bun Bun. He had a kind heart and greeted every creature with a smile—a bee, a field mouse, and even a grumpy old owl. 

If someone needed help, Bun Bun never hesitated. He carried acorns for the squirrels, shared clover with hungry rabbits, gently freed butterflies from spider webs, rebuilt broken birds' nests, helped mice carry seeds, and gathered twigs for the grumpy old owl. 

The forest became a warmer, happier place because his kindness bloomed in every heart. 

Bun Bun knew that kindness grows when it is shared. 

Moral: Kindness has a way of spreading from one heart to another.

Georgia

Look at the Book

 

After thinking about it for a while, I must confess I find great pleasure in collecting and reading through recipe books. What I realize is that I enjoy buying them and looking through all the recipes, but I don’t or very rarely create a dish from one of them and serve it.

Books containing every single type of chocolate recipe makes me go, “oooh,” and “aaah,” despite the fact that as much as I love chocolate I never even tried one delicious recipe.

I also like cookbooks that have two hundred pages of only chicken recipes. I will sit and read through recipe after recipe, yet I will still go back and cook my own tried and true chicken dishes.

I even have a cookbook where each recipe uses all kinds of exotic spices. I broke down and prepared one of these very spicey recipes which contained a large amount of curry powder. I invited my mother and aunt over for dinner so they could try my creation.

I don’t think either one of them ever had curry in their lives. It was obvious by the amount of beer they drank to wash it down. The next time they came over for dinner, they brought take-out!

Ellen G.