https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/new-blog-1 daily 0.75 2023-04-28 https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/new-blog-1/2021/6/6/lucky-things monthly 0.5 2025-07-15 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1623004722772-1UFW0A8ZL6BXUPKGHDG6/park+copy.jpg Words After Words - ☘︎ Lucky Things ☘︎ - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/new-blog-1/2021/2/24/on-dreams monthly 0.5 2025-07-15 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1614199403154-0JBXH8M3R93HTQ1QC8OV/dad%2527s%2Bbirds.jpg Words After Words - ☽ An Old Dream ☾ https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1614200450830-E1FH13SM08BT5KCIJ0YB/IMG_0118.jpg Words After Words - ☽ An Old Dream ☾ I found the following essay, written over three years ago, buried in a linty crevice on my hard drive. It is about my father and a dream I had that he’d died unexpectedly. At the time, he was not dead. He was old, yes, and his health was not perfect, but he’d been alive at the time of the dream. Since then, he has left this earth, nearly three years to the day of the original dream. I’ve pasted the essay here with minimal editing (although I am sure it needs a good scrub). 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This Is Just to Say I have written the words that were in this text box and which you were probably seeking for preface Forgive me they were fictitious so twee and so droll. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1614377341406-C6DZGI5AKMH2ID5B17D8/49A4A995-826D-4C38-B9FE-CE0E1D6206EE_1_105_c.jpg About https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1588189221712-9RM72O4RMW2IG87D4NW7/IMG_3760.jpg About - This Is Just to Say I have written the words that were in this text box and which you were probably seeking for preface Forgive me they were fictitious so twee and so droll. https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/new-page-1 daily 1.0 2025-07-15 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1588543765388-003C49D235JKKXY3LJ0L/lowdownoutfit.jpg HOME - GRUMPSTONE GAZETTE https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1713212462786-FQVC9M6JP4EP3M8YFHKZ/IMG_3812.JPEG HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1682644474694-H2744TP8EDG3QA2X1ZDD/IMG_1811.JPG HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1682644474871-P7PLF5D7R2GHVF0TL4WT/IMG_1826.JPG HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1682644475575-7VG21YACIV86B3YES6WO/30D52EB1-52D2-492A-A24B-4316BE315579.JPG HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1683323632717-62CRKMUYMOJNE191M84D/IMG_2262.JPG HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1699045828539-WVV7MOEAGAIDZ5HJ7GG4/IMG_3270.jpeg HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1699046233228-ZHB7U5TO70HCDB7M0MH3/IMG_2237.jpg HOME https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1588543765388-003C49D235JKKXY3LJ0L/lowdownoutfit.jpg https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/new-page-2 daily 0.75 2021-04-28 https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/in-here daily 0.75 2022-07-24 https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/out-there daily 0.75 2025-07-15 https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/naturewillprovide daily 0.75 2021-04-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1619623711249-FDDJ057NMS04X7HYISR9/IMG_4313.jpg Nature Will Provide https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/1619623711249-FDDJ057NMS04X7HYISR9/IMG_4313.jpg Nature Will Provide https://www.grumpstonegazette.com/birdwatching-on-mount-utsayantha-new-york daily 0.75 2022-07-24 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/60f01b71-5415-4629-bc07-abc685511f57/IMG_0414.jpg "Birdwatching on Mount Utsayantha, New York" - “Birdwatching on Mount Utsayantha, New York” We had not expected to see a yeti at the top of the fire tower, peering over the railing at the gray December valley while we watched it through our binoculars. We had been hoping to find a lifer, a misdirected swallow-tailed kite that had hit Florida and then continued north until it was surrounded by pine, maple, and the absolute absence of its own kind. A maladjustment in its migratory systems had landed the bird on the same mountain as this yeti at the top of the tower. The yeti whose eyes shone in our lenses like the wide, wet black of a lowland gorilla, blinking and blinking in the sun of an unknown world. We hypothesized for a moment that the yeti and bird had traveled here, intentionally: a planned rendezvous. It seemed easier to imagine this, as we scanned the trees for the errant kite, than to think the bird was hopeless and lost and the yeti had always been here, our very own Abominable Snowman, and was noticeable only now when, like so many other things, we had lost the ability for true winter. An earlier version of this poem appeared in the fall 2021 issue of Prospectus: A Literary Offering. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/59f07a458a02c77a0c4263c2/60f01b71-5415-4629-bc07-abc685511f57/IMG_0414.jpg "Birdwatching on Mount Utsayantha, New York" - “Birdwatching on Mount Utsayantha, New York” We had not expected to see a yeti at the top of the fire tower, peering over the railing at the gray December valley while we watched it through our binoculars. We had been hoping to find a lifer, a misdirected swallow-tailed kite that had hit Florida and then continued north until it was surrounded by pine, maple, and the absolute absence of its own kind. A maladjustment in its migratory systems had landed the bird on the same mountain as this yeti at the top of the tower. The yeti whose eyes shone in our lenses like the wide, wet black of a lowland gorilla, blinking and blinking in the sun of an unknown world. We hypothesized for a moment that the yeti and bird had traveled here, intentionally: a planned rendezvous. It seemed easier to imagine this, as we scanned the trees for the errant kite, than to think the bird was hopeless and lost and the yeti had always been here, our very own Abominable Snowman, and was noticeable only now when, like so many other things, we had lost the ability for true winter. An earlier version of this poem appeared in the fall 2021 issue of Prospectus: A Literary Offering.