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Every spring my most determined companion is a Phoebe. This drab little flycatcher constructs her muddy home with maniacal focus atop an electrical outlet on the Foggy Ridge crush pad, just behind the blending tank and next to the glycol chiller. She fusses at the bottling crew, ignores the drone of the air compressor and ... read more
When asked to list his strengths at school, my then 10-year old stepson wrote “I’m a good eater”. I, too, am firmly in the “live to eat” camp, and never miss a chance to dine and drink, well and often. But it is “appetite” in the larger sense that grabs my attention these days—our appetite ... read more
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