I could feel it when I saw this huge sign atop a hill along the road in south central Alabama: Here’s the thought: “Somewhere in town there will be a big sign proclaiming this place to be the ‘City of Opportunity.’ Right? Well…yes, finally, but almost not. During my search, I found this: “Shop Opp.” Not bad. And this really nice farmer’s market, all decked out for the holidays:

I stumbled across the lowest of the highs last month. The lowest high point in all of the high points of the country’s 50 states that is. It’s a mere 345 feet above mean sea level and it’s near Lakewood, Florida, way up north of me just a couple miles south of the Alabama state line. That’s lower than many buildings in the state.

I’m a sucker for modest looking motels that sit up on a hill and have nice overhangs. And I’m a sucker for pink flamingos. What happens when you put all those flamingos in a row and add a swing and a rocking chair on a front porch? The American Inn in Camden, Alabama, sucked me right in, as these photos illustrate.

So be good, folks.  He’s out there keeping an eye on you. My pool service emails me a photo of the sparkling water at the completion of each weekly visit. Look who they caught in the shot!

Spotted in Natchez, Mississippi.

My backyard Florida pals were out to greet me my first week back in the warmth for the winter.  These unlikely partners, a limpkin and an iguana, were on opposite sides of the chain link fence running along the waterfront. And just off the dock, this pair of Muscovy ducks put on a lengthy display of aquatic sexual acrobatics. And all this was closely watched at times by a pair of Egyptian geese who’d been sleeping on the dock.

A recent note from a stranger has dredged up some pleasant memories from 22 years ago and solved a mystery to boot! To set the scene, let's harken back to Sept. 6, 2003.  I was happily paddling through a really sweet spot on my solo canoe trip down the Mississippi River.  It was that section between southwestern Wisconsin and the northeastern bit of Iowa, a stretch replete with great river towns to stop at and savor.

I noticed today that a reader of one of my blog posts came to me because he or she had clicked on a link in an article on the website of The Cambridge Historical Commission called Practical Patents: 19th Century Cambridge. So I went there and scrolled through the whole thing and there at the bottom was a list called Sources. 

I hit a nice sweet spot this weekend in Connecticut. It all came together on a nice paddle on the Salmon River down in Moodus, just a few miles above where it meets the Connecticut River at Haddam. It was sweet for several reasons. For one thing, the weather cooperated.  That’s something that hasn’t happened very often during this year’s northeast paddling season. 

All it takes is a couple quick trips from Connecticut to New Hampshire and a 10-day jaunt to Wisconsin and bingo, another 5,000 miles on the car.  Time for another oil change, tire rotation and alignment check, the latter especially important after all those potholes on Chicago streets. New Hampshire Part 1: July 4 My July 4 tradition continued with a visit to Contoocook, home of sister-in-law Ginni Haines, for the small-town holiday festivities. 

After many days of cold and rain this month the sun finally came out and the temps hit 70 and I boldly ventured out on my first paddle this season in the northeast. Years ago I gave up trying to paddle here in April. This year even May has been dicey. I went to my favorite place, the Swift River near Belchertown, MA.

For decades I have received a Mother’s Day telephone call from a fellow, late-60s Peace Corps Ethiopia volunteer. “Ding-a-ling you Mother,” was the greeting from Jim Gregory when I picked up the phone every second Sunday in the month of May. I won’t get any more calls from Ato Jim (we used the Ethiopian honorifics when addressing each other).  His long battle with cancer ended April 27.

I took the mountain route up from Florida to Connecticut this year because I wanted to visit some friends in north Georgia.  That took me onto I-81 and through Abingdon VA, site of a magical rainbow show when I first stopped there five years. I aimed for the same motel where I experienced two magnificent rainbows in 2020, the Alpine Motel…

I am very happy I own a car that will not let me lock it when the keys are inside of it. It not only refuses to lock. It beeps at me…twice! Color me lucky I guess, but I can recall only three times in my life, with previous cars, when that feature would have been handy. The first time, the keys were not only locked inside, the engine was running.

Ramadan, the nineth month of the Islamic calendar, is a fasting period for Muslims, from dawn to dusk.  This year it will end tomorrow. It lasts twenty-nine to thirty days, from one sighting of the crescent moon to the next. I’m not Muslim, not even religious at all, just another agnostic, but Ramadan has always rung a bell with me.  It goes back to my trip from India back to Europe by land many years ago.