Author Archives: Dale Hobson
Bearing Up
Wildlife are taking advantage of reduced human activity during the pandemic to show up in places where they are seldom seen. A bear moving into the stretch between Hannawa Falls and Potsdam has been the cause of some excitement, especially … Continue reading
Red Sandstone Trail Nocturne
The Red Sandstone Trail runs between my home and the west shore of Sugar Island Flow on the Racquette River. I’ve been walking it since my teenage years, long before the local chapter of the Adirondack Mountain Club improved it … Continue reading
Election Reflection
While I was doomscrolling through the day’s news of politics and pandemic, the wind began to rise. I didn’t really notice at first, until I began to mistake it for a distant train passing through the village. Then the “train” … Continue reading
Another rainy Monday
As we teeter on the brink of the election and a third peak of the pandemic, it’s the little ordinary things that stubbornly remain ordinary that I find so discombobulating. Given the tumult of event and emotion, there should be … Continue reading
In the fall of fever, 10/8/20
On this day, the official COVID-19 death toll in America hit 213,000. It could have been any unimaginably large number, but was this. I wanted to capture indirectly the feeling of waiting and grief and isolation, of anxiety too long … Continue reading
Gathering Chi
In my Facebook feed the other day was a picture of muppets from Sesame Street saying “The year 2020 is brought to you by the letters W, T and F.” Too true. In my Tai Chi class, we start by … Continue reading
Waiting Room
When times are dark and seem to be getting darker, sweet pastoral reflections feel a little disingenuous. Waiting Room Each of these lines contains five silent prayers, accent falling on the silence. Rhyme scheme is irregular as nothing is similar … Continue reading
Reading Chinese poets
I first started reading Chinese poetry in high school. transporting myself from small-town ’60s America into mountains and rivers without end. Now I find myself going back to the first books I bought for myself back then and re-reading them … Continue reading
In the Summer of Fever
When I wrote “In the Spring of Fever,” I hoped that one season would do it. Alas. This poem came to me out of the weird congruence between such a beautiful summer and the grinding fear and anxiety of a … Continue reading
Back to the Table
Here is an occasional poem I wrote back in 2011 as a table grace for a GardenShare event in Canton, NY. GardenShare is a locavore organization that shares the bounty with schools and food pantries, etc., and promotes sustainable agriculture … Continue reading
