Author Archives: Dale Hobson

The other village

November is a time to remember those who have left our world. There’s All Souls Day and Veterans Day. The sky fills with birds, flying into the distance. The leaves have fallen and the ground hardened with frost. There is … Continue reading

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Beside the waters

  I’ve always been grateful to the local chapter of the Adirondack Mountain Club for cutting and maintaining the Red Sandstone Trail behind my house along the Raquette River from Hannawa Falls down Sugar Island almost to the village. Before … Continue reading

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New book “Light Year” released August 2

“Light Year” was launched Friday, August 2, 2019 by Liberty Street Books, Potsdam, NY. Light Year poems by Dale Hobson, illustrations by Suzanne Langelier-Lebeda 64 pgs., perfect bound paperback with 12 color illustrations by Suzanne Langelier-Lebeda ISBN 978-0-578-53780-1 Price: $18.00 Order … Continue reading

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Moon walks and man shoes

Everyone old enough to remember where they were when the first humans landed on the moon does remember. I was 15 that summer and on a grand tour of the national parks out West with my family. Our campsite was … Continue reading

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Late spring complaint

I’ve held up through many a North Country winter and this one was no worse than many, and better than some. But by May, I expect my just recompense: blossoms, birdsong, sunshine. To misquote the legal maxim, “spring delayed is … Continue reading

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A change in the weather

At first glance, the North Country does not look its best in November. For those who do not fly with the geese, it means looking a little harder to find the sustaining beauty that rewards any kind of weather. After … Continue reading

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Why women invented beer

Yesterday an article in the Food and Drink section of Huffington Post caught my eye: “According To History, We Can Thank Women For Beer.” It details the role of women in the invention and development of brewing going back at … Continue reading

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Another old poet has died

The poet Donald Hall died this week. Never say he “passed away;” he loathed euphemism. Though we never met except as a reader does, upon the page, I felt a kindred spirit at work in him. Being the age of … Continue reading

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The harbinger

In May of 2015, I wrote these words in the Listening Post: “Whenever I see a trillium, I want to stop and breathe, to do nothing but be in the presence. And then I want to write a poem; I … Continue reading

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Twenty-five below

Calling it cold doesn’t quite cover it. One more night into the double-digits below zero and then finally the temperatures will start to go back up. It’s been a long time to just call it a “snap.” Mostly, folks just … Continue reading

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