The Journal SP25 by publisher-milfordjournal

Simple Pleasures of Fly Fishing

We are Northwestern New Jersey, Northeastern Pennsylvania and Orange and Sullivan Counties in New York State.

It’s a special place; an hour to an hour and a half drive from Manhattan, but still rural, bucolic, and charming. The life up here is beautiful and exciting. We have top talent who call our area home.

We’re home to farmers and artists, to musicians and civic leaders, to entrepreneurs, and more. Local stories, local photography, local culture.

New to the area? Visiting, thinking of relocating, or been here a while? Looking for the best businesses in the tri-state area?

The Journal showcases leading stores and services in our area. Our advertisers want you to be able to make well-informed decisions about products and services for every aspect of your lives. Browse through our magazine and find a new, interesting place to shop. We believe in and support our advertisers. What’s good for our businesses is good for us.

Harvey Fierstein

Publisher & Editor

Amy Bridge publisher@milfordjournal.com

Graphic Design

Maureen Taylor

Susan Mednick susanmed2@optonline.net

The Journalists

Associate Editor

B’Ann Bowman

Advertising Team

Amy Bridge amy@milfordjournal.com

Kimberly Hess kimberlyhess212@gmail.com

Julia Schmitt Healy • Jane Primerano

Bob Romano • Alison Porter

Armand Ensanian • Eric Francis

The tri-state upper Delaware River highlands and valleys are a place of rare beauty…

Seeing the region and living in it almost aren’t enough. Such beauty should be captured on canvas or film so that one can truly appreciate it, glimpse it in the quiet of an art gallery or museum, or between the pages of a poetry book or literary sketch.

The Journal Group’s mission is to capture these momentary snapshots of beauty graphically and through the written word. We celebrate our area and the uniqueness of the people who live and work in the tri-state region. From Pike to Wayne and Monroe to Lackawanna Counties in Pennsylvania, upriver to Sullivan County and on to Orange County in New York, and to the headwaters of the Wallkill River and

Mission

Editorial Readers

Robert Bowman Amy Smith

David Dangler dangler908@yahoo.com

The Poet

Mona Voelkel

along Warren and Sussex Counties’ rolling hills in New Jersey, with quaint, historic towns and hamlets at the center, the Journal Group opens its doors to our communities, businesses and organizations, to serve as a communicative journal of all that we have to offer for those who live here and for those who love to visit us, too.

Publication Information

The Journal Group publishes The Journal ten times a year and distributes it in eight counties in PA, NJ and NY. We assume no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts. Contents may not be reproduced in any form without prior written permission. We reserve the right to refuse to print advertisements that we deem inappropriate. All rights reserved.

Simple Pleasures of Fly Fishing

Nature writer Bob Romano fishing his favorite stream.

Photo by Trish Romano

Revealing Art

Whether working with gold, silver, bronze, copper, or iron, whether designing and creating stunning jewelry or innovative metalwork sculptures, Marie Zimmermann (1879–1972) was a major American artist. It’s impossible to put a label on someone who was both a renowned metalsmith and a master of the decorative arts.

How fortunate we are to have the historic Zimmermann farm in our community, just between Milford Borough and Dingmans Ferry, PA. It was here that the Brooklyn-born Zimmermann was able to satisfy her passion for the natural world, spending much of her life on this cherished property, including the beautiful home at its center.

Both her rural retreat and a working farm, the land was initially purchased in 1882 by Zimmermann’s father, a Swiss immigrant. Marie would continue to raise the black-faced sheep that her father first introduced to Pike County, while also indulging her ongoing loves of fly fishing, skeet shooting, and hunting.

The Friends of Marie Zimmermann, a non-profit group devoted to preserving and sharing the legacy of this deeply versatile artist, are proud and excited to announce the recent acquisition of twenty-five original Zimmermann artworks on loan from the Zimmermann family estate.

An exclusive preview of these treasures will be the centerpiece of a “reveal” party inside the farm’s landmark house on Saturday, May 10th, at 5 p.m. Featuring a dinner menu inspired by Zimmermann’s love of the outdoors, it will be a singular occasion to immerse oneself in both the artist’s life and her art.

For ticket information, please see Friends of Marie Zimmermann on Facebook.

Guest Entry – Michael White, Board Director, Friends of Marie Zimmermann

Photos courtesy of Friends of Marie Zimmermann

Tree, Teach Me

Know your tree by the swell of your heart. Touch your tree. Feel the bark. See branches soaring to the sky. Step back. When you return, like you, your tree is changed. Tree, teach me stillness for I am always in motion. Tree, teach me to move towards light, to nurture all within outstretched arms. Tree, teach me bravery in the darkness. Tree, teach me to climb one step at a time. Tree, teach me kindness; to bow to the wind. Tree, teach me acceptance, like you with leaf: releasing, not losing. Tree, you were born in ancient soil. I was born in ancient spirit. Let love be the only memory that remains. Close your eyes. Wherever you go. Your tree, like home, is within you.

- Mona Voelkel

HARVEY FEIN

RETURN TO RANGELEY

Around the Towns Spring

RETURN TO RANGELEY – A NOVEL by

by Robert J. Romano, Jr.

Join Nathaniel Palmer, George Anne Brady, and company as they seek meaning in an increasingly troubling world among the vast lakes, unrestrained rivers, and those little rills found only by following a logging road through the heart of western Maine.

Praise for Bob’s previous novels:

April 23rd

$5. Also May 1st & 3rd. Info: www.sussex. edu/community/performing.

4 p.m.

Robert J. Romano, Jr.

Wednesday 7:30–10:00 p.m.

Lit Scenes Competition. Sparta Ambulance Building, Sparta, NJ. Member submissions can be night scenes, still lifes, portraits, light painting, lights from cars, etc. Info: www. spartacameraclub.org.

April 25th

Friday 5:30 p.m.

Wild About Watersheds. Environmental Education Center, Lacawac Sanctuary, Lake Ariel, PA. Take an informative hike about area watersheds and how to protect them. Info: 570.689.9494, www.lacawac.org

April 25th–26th

Friday 6–9 p.m. Saturday 5–8 p.m.

There’s No Leaving Newton: Folklore Art Show. Newton VFW, Newton, NJ. Presented by North Jersey Arts Collective. Info: northjerseyartscollective.com.

April 26th

Saturday

Tricky Tray. Merriam Avenue School, Newton, NJ. Dual foundation fundraiser (Gunnar J. Bigley Foundation and Lexi Faye Heart of Gold Foundation). Calling begins at 6 p.m. Info: gandltrickytray@gmail.com.

6–9 p.m.

The Party: Celestial Celebration. UAP Polich Tallix, Rock Tavern, NY. An evening of art, food & music to support Wallkill River Center for the Arts. $90–$125. Info: wallkill.art.

April 27th

Sunday 1–4 p.m.

Quilts: More Than Meets the Eye. Van Kirk Homestead Museum, Sparta, NJ. Display of regional quilts. 2 p.m. speaker: Jenise Sileo. Also May 11th & 25th. Presented by Sparta Historical Society. Info: Info: 973.726.0883, www.vankirkmuseum.org.

2 p.m.

Ice Age Origins of the Hudson River School of Art. Time and the Valleys Museum, Grahamsville, NY. Robert & Johanna Titus speak on their new book. Members/free, nonmembers/$5. Info: 845.985.7700, www.time andthevalleysmuseum.org.

April 28th

Monday 6–9 p.m.

“A fine tribute to one of the last wilderness enclaves of New England and to the tough, resourceful, kind-hearted, and ever so independent-minded people who eke out a living there.” – Howard Frank Mosher, author of eight novels including Waiting For Teddy Williams.

“A ne tribute to one of the last wilderness enclaves of New England and to the tough, resourceful, kindhearted, and ever so independentminded people who eke out a living there.” – Howard Frank Mosher, author of eight novels including Waiting For Teddy Williams

Mini Dulcimer Festival: A Day with Aubrey Atwater & Elwood Donnelly. Presbyterian Church of the Mountain, Delaware Water Gap, PA. Workshops, music jam, and afternoon concert. Hosted by Pocono Dulcimer Club. Info: www.poconodulcimer.club.

8 a.m.–noon

“Bob Romano brings us nature as nurturer, the chemistry and characters of the small town, the restorative powers of fishing, and a sense of place that rings true.” – Joseph Heywood, author of numerous books including The Snow Fly and his Woods Cop series of novels.

Fishing Derby. Lily Pond, Schocopee Road, Milford, PA. Children 15 and under. Hosted by Pike County Commissioners. Free for participants. Info: 570.296.7613, www. pikepa.org/fishingderby.

Taste of Vernon. Red Tail Lodge, Vernon, NJ. Highlighting local eateries. $55. Benefits local philanthropic organizations. Hosted by Vernon Chamber of Commerce. Info: 973.764.0764, www.vernonchamber.com.

May 3rd

Saturday Noon–3 p.m.

“Bob Romano knows fly fishing, and he knows the human heart and he writes about them in clear, evocative prose. Romano combines these ingredients beautifully which I enjoyed immensely.” – William G. Tapply, author of the Brady Coyne and the Stoney Calhoun novels.

“Bob Romano brings us nature as nurturer, the chemistry and characters of the small town, the restorative powers of shing, and a sense of place that rings true.” – Joseph Heywood, author of numerous books including The Snow Fly and his Woods Cop series of novels.

“Bob Romano knows y shing, and he knows the human heart and he writes about them in clear, evocative prose. Romano combines these ingredients beautifully…which I enjoyed immensely.” – William G. Tapply, author of the Brady Coyne and the Stoney Calhoun novels.

10 a.m.–3 p.m.

Art at the Towers. Grey Towers, Milford, PA. A plein air art show with regional artists. Free admission. Info: 570.296.9625, www. greytowers.

11 a.m.–4 p.m.

Available through https://shop.midcurrent.com and https://www.amazon.com

Earth Day Festival. PEEC, Dingmans Ferry, PA. $5/car. Hikes, crafts, food, music & more. Info: 570.828.2319, www.peec.org.

Spring Fling. Veterans Park, Wurtsboro, NY. Crafts, bird show, plant sale, food & more. Sponsored by Wurtsboro Board of Trade. Info: www.wurtsboro.org

5–7 p.m.

In Search of the Ethereal: Opening Reception. Amity Gallery, Warwick, NY. Photographic works of David Horton. During the reception, he will demonstrate his unique approach to art. Info: amitygallery.org.

For an autographed copy email Bob at magalloway@mac.com

1–3 p.m.

AVAILABLE THROUGH: https://shop.midcurrent.com and https://www.amazon.com

For an autographed copy email Bob at magalloway@mac.com

Spring Hike. PEEC, Dingmans Ferry, PA. Hike the Fossil Trail to celebrate the last day of Conservation District Week. Co-hosted by PEEC and Pike County Conservation District. Free. Info: 570.226.8220, www.pike conservation.org

2 p.m.

I Can! We Can!. Performing Arts Center, Sussex County Community College, Newton, NJ. A theater presentation for children.

May 4th

Sunday 9 a.m.

Delaware River 5K Run & Walk. Riverside Park, Port Jervis, NY. Registration: $26–$35. Entertainment and food trucks. Hosted by the Port Jervis Recreation Dept. Info: 845.858.4045.

1–3 p.m.

Spring Beauties: Wildflower Walk. Brandwein Nature Learning Preserve, Port Jervis, NY. Learn how to identify wildflowers. $5. Registration required, Info: brandwein.org.

May 5th

Monday 6 p.m.

A Taste of Talent. Perona Farms, Andover, NJ. Tasting stations from local restaurants. Live music. $300. Benefits Project Self-Sufficiency. Info: 973.940.3500, www.projectself sufficiency.org.

May 8th

Thursday 6–9 p.m.

Heroes of Childcare Gala. The Barn at Villa Venezia, Middletown, NY. Honoring our children’s champions. $55. Hosted by Childcare Council of Orange County. Info: 845.294.4012, www.childcarecounciloc.org.

May 10th

Saturday 10 a.m.–4 p.m.

Car and Truck Show, Sussex County Technical School, Sparta, NJ. Plus vendors, food trucks, music, raffles & more. Hosted by Rotary Club of Newton. Info: 201.341.9318, www.newtonrotaryclub.com.

11 a.m.–2 p.m.

At Home with the Pinchots. Grey Towers, Milford, PA. Visit with actors who portray the Pinchots and describe the history of Grey Towers. Refreshments. Tours run every 20 minutes. Presented by the Grey Towers Heritage Association. $15–$20. Info: 570.296.9630, greytowers.org.

4–7 p.m.

Reveal Party. Marie Zimmermann Farm, Dingmans Ferry, PA. Preview of 25 original Marie Zimmermann art works. Dinner & wine. $100. Hosted by Friends of Marie Zimmermann. Info: 570.618.2769.

May 15th

Thursday 5–7 p.m.

YMCA Golf Outing. Mansion Ridge Country Club, Monroe, NY. Supports the mission of strengthening the community. $100 per player. Includes dinner, prizes & more. Info: www.middletownymca.org.

May 16th–18th

Friday–Sunday

Birds and Brews. PEEC, Dingmans Ferry, PA. Weekend of bird watching on guided hikes. Beer from local breweries on Saturday. $230. Info: 570.828.2319, www.peec.org.

May 17th

Saturday 3–5 p.m.

Gilbert & Sullivan. Pool Pavilion, Grey Towers, Milford, PA. Music by the Sylvania Gilbert and Sullivan Society. Refreshments. Hosted by Grey Towers Heritage Association. $15–$30. Info: 570.296.9630, www. greytowers.org.

4 p.m.

Romantic Discoveries. First United Methodist Church, Newton, NJ. Performance

by New Sussex Symphony. $10–$15. Info: 973.579.6465, newsussexsymphony.org.

May 17th–18th

Saturday & Sunday 10 a.m.–4 p.m.

Farm Animal Frolic. Quiet Valley Living Historical Farm, Stroudsburg, PA. Baby farm animals, games, refreshments & more. $10–$18. Also May 24th & May 25th. Info: 570.992.6161, www.quietvalley.org.

May 18th

Sunday 2 p.m.

The Carving of Mt. Rushmore: Out of Rushmore’s Shadows. Delaware Township Municipal Hall, Dingmans Ferry, PA. Lou Del Bianco discusses his book about his grandfather, Luigi Del Bianco, the artist behind Mt. Rushmore. Hosted by Dingmans Ferry-Delaware Township Historical Society. Free. Info: ding mansferryhistoricalsociety.org.

May 23rd

Friday 1:00–2:30 p.m.

How Does a Tree Work? Van Scott Nature Reserve, Beach Lake, PA. A deep dive into the inner workings of a tree. Members $5/ Non-members $10. Presented by the Delaware Highlands Conservancy. Info: 570.226.3164, www.DelawareHighlands.org.

May 24th

Saturday 9 a.m.–2 p.m.

Birding Hike at Tilcon Lake. Waterloo State Park, Waterloo Village, Byram, NJ. Hosted by Sussex County Bird Club. Info: sussex countybirdclub.org.

10 a.m.–4 p.m.

Art in the Park Day. Peters Valley School of Craft, Layton, NJ. Studio tours, fine craft demos, hands-on activities and more. Free. Info: 973.948.5200, www.petersvalley.org.

May 24th–25th

Saturday 10:00 a.m.–5:00 p.m. Sunday 10:00 a.m.–5:00 p.m.

Spring Festival. Sugar Loaf Arts & Crafts Village, Sugar Loaf, NY. Vendors, music, food, drinks & more. Info: 845.570.5189, www. sugarloafnewyork.com.

May 26th

Monday 10 a.m.

Memorial Day Parade. Sprint Street, Newton, NJ. Parade followed by remembrance of our fallen heroes at Memory Park. Sponsored by the Greater Newton Chamber of Commerce. Info: 973.300.0433, greaternewtoncc.com

10 a.m.

Memorial Day Parade. Main Street, Branchville, NJ.

11 a.m.

Memorial Day Parade. Port Jervis, NY. Info: 845.858.4000, www.portjervisny.gov.

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Paul with Knucklehead.

Photo by Mark V

by Paul Cox

The Art of the Custom Motorcycle The Mechanical and Aesthetic Genius of Paul Cox

Step into the Port Jervis workshop/studio of Paul Cox, and you will enter a wonderland of machinery, tools, shiny parts of all description, and workbenches upon which sit his current projects. To my eye, it’s a magical workspace where, clearly, the artist/maker wears lots of hats.

Recently, I had the opportunity to talk with Mr. Cox, who is as articulate as he is talented.

I began by asking for some background details. “I was born in Richmond, Virginia,” he says, “and as a kid, I liked building things. I made Soap Box Derby cars, boats and messed around with bikes.”

Much of this activity was done in the summer. “I stayed with my grandparents in the country and was wild and free.” As an only child, he entertained himself. He also painted and did drawings and had the opportunity to explore a variety of creative avenues.

“When I was ten or twelve, I had minibikes, dirt bikes, and bicycles. I worked on them with my friends and began modifying them. This was the mid-70s and the local bike guys were riding choppers with long front forks, just like in the 1969 movie Easy Rider, so I got the idea to do that with bikes, too. I’d cut the forks off of multiple bikes and have the local plumbing shop weld them all together.

“Also, the motorcycle daredevil, Evel Knievel, heavily influenced my obsession with bikes and stunts. We’d build ramps to jump the bikes high into the air and stand up on the bike seat to ‘surf’ our bikes down the street. I woke up unconscious a few times on my grandmother’s couch because of it, but I kept flying higher and farther on my stretched out, red, white, and blue ‘Bicentennial Death Trap.’ This really began my love of making art out of machines and making machines into art.”

University, which has a stellar art department. “The first year was the Art Foundation Program where you take classes in painting, drawing, commercial art, and sculpture,” he notes. Being influenced by his parents to have something to rely on for income, he majored in fashion illustration.

(It was at VCU where he met his future wife, Anne Rogers, also an artist and designer, but more about her in a bit.)

In school, he made hand-drawn illustrations, as this was before computers and digital drawing programs. On the side, he continued to make paintings.

“The goal was always to move to New York City,” he says. “So, after graduation in 1989, I got a U-Haul truck, parked it in the driveway, and packed it up.” He moved in with his best friend on 13th Street and got a job at the Knickerbocker as a waiter. Within a week he was hired to do illustrations for Studio LaRue and Mano a Mano. This job lasted a couple of years, and during this time he was able to amass a trove of tear sheets from the newspapers and magazines his work appeared in.

Living in the East Village, he found himself involved with a circle of people who were into motorcycles. As he worked on his own bikes in the street, he realized this was something where he was able to combine his love of fine art with his love of the mechanical.

Over time, he got somewhat disgusted by the fashion industry with its sweat shops and “iffy” practices: “We had to invent fake back stories for non-existent designers. We made up portraits of them.” He eased out of illustration as he got custom side jobs, such as doing custom leather work for bike seats.

In school, he had certain teachers that encouraged him, and he eventually wound up at Virginia Commonwealth

After Anne graduated, they found odd spaces to live and work in. She did her fashion designing, and he continued his painting practice but also took apart motorcycles in

Continued on next page

their one-room studio. He’d sometimes work on the sidewalk. Occasionally, he showed his paintings in pop-up shows and also at places such as Scream Gallery.

In the early 90s, he began freelancing his bike work in a shop called Psycho Cycles, and he finally had a “spot to work,” he tells me. Around then he quit his last “legitimate job,” which was at an art moving and installation company. “It was inspiring to work in a shop with other people.” This was the time that he met and worked with the legendary bike-builder, “Indian Larry.”

A journey down the YouTube rabbit hole will bring up videos from the Discovery Channel’s Biker Build-Off, in which you can learn more about Larry, Paul, and others in this rarified world.

Around 1994, Paul and Anne moved to Williamsburg, Brooklyn. This was before Williamsburg was Williamsburg. They found what they considered an “amazing space.” It was a storefront and had a garage. He commuted back and forth to Manhattan and was able to have what he calls “the parallel of paid workspace, where I could do my own exclusive stuff, and an independent space, where I could live and do my painting.”

In the mid-2000s, Anne and Paul’s daughter, Dylan, was born, and they moved to a 3,000-square-foot warehouse in Williamsburg, NY, that had been a fish bottling

Paul Cox

Red Dragon in Port Jervis.

Photo by Mark V

Waltz on Hawk’s

Photo

Paul Cox

company. With his reputation already established, now he had plenty of space to house his equipment and take on his bike projects.

Ten years ago, the couple bought a weekend home in Sparrowbush, NY, and started thinking about the possibility of living upstate full-time. (Dylan was attending a specialized performing arts high school in New York City, so they wanted her to graduate before a move.)

Anne found a Port Jervis building, affectionately called “The Beast,” a few years ago and realized it could be a perfect place to have artist studios, a gallery, and an arts space for her, as well as Paul’s shop in the back of the first floor. As she rehabs the space, R.H. Smith Mercantile, she has begun to sponsor exhibits and other events.

Paul showed me one of his amazing paintings and has told me he might do a show of his fine art work there at some point. And Anne’s jewelry might also command an exhibit at some point.

He moved his bike shop to Port Jervis in 2018. “My clientele followed me. I knew I didn’t have to rely on walk-ins, so I could work anywhere.”

His reputation is such that he has a two-year turnover time. “I don’t advertise.” Not to name-drop too much, but Brad Pitt owns three of his custom motorcycles as do many other celebrities. I’ll stop there, though.

“My clients aren’t just famous people,” he says “Many of my customers might be blue collar—a successful contractor or something like that. They are looking for quality, uniqueness, and beauty.”

Looking around his workspace, it amazes me to see all the parts and, then, a finished bike sitting somewhere— which truly is a thing of beauty. The large room in the back of R.H. Smith Mercantile is dizzying. There are so many specialty tools and machines and cabinets. He must have fifty Dremel tools with different attachments alone!

“I get excited about learning, and I explore all the aspects of building I can,” he says.

He builds the chassis and the frames. He does all the metal work and the engine-building. He engraves intricate designs into the metal parts. He does the leatherwork and tooling of the saddle and other accessories. He paints the gas tank and other non-chrome parts—beautifully so, I might add. He even laces his own wheels! (What’s that? Weaving the spokes into the rim, just so.)

“I love the parameters,” he concludes “The challenge in building the perfect custom motorcycle is creating beauty and uniqueness within the mechanical constraints of a proper high-performance machine. Otherwise, it’s just dysfunctional sculpture, without the purpose of a machine or the purity of art. You want your bike to be safe and fun, but you also want it to be beautiful and interesting.”

And they are objects of art. I wonder if he does those three-wheeler motorcycles for old people…hmmmm. (“Yes, I do,” he tells me.)

Paul Cox is proprietor of Paul Cox Industries (Paulcox industries@gmail.com). Anne Rogers is an artist and owner of R.H. Smith Mercantile, Port Jervis, N.Y.

Julia Schmitt Healy is an artist, writer, and art professor. Her website is JuliaHealy.com. Her work is represented by Western Exhibitions, Chicago, (westernexhibitions.com) and Elijah Wheat Showroom, NY.

Top: Paul in his workshop.

Photo by Julia Schmitt Healy. Bottom: Looking Back.

Photo by Michael Lichter

By Alison Porter

Spring Luncheon in the Garden

There is an ephemeral moment, when the “promised kiss of springtime,” as Oscar Hammerstein so brilliantly described it, arrives in the Northeast. It occurs in early May. It is the time when the daffodils have already shown up, the lilacs might be blooming, and it is a little too early to plant the annuals. For a few days, there is nothing to do but enjoy spring.

Forced patience is a delicious torment as I bide my time, eager to get my hands in the dirt. I can’t dig yet, but I can admire all the flowering shrubs and newly awakened plants pushing their way up through the soil. I can enjoy reading a book outside while listening to the birds chatter. I can imagine myself leading an elegant life, like those people depicted in the French Impressionist paintings. And I remember once again that this is the perfect time to host a luncheon in the garden.

In my mind’s eye, and sometimes even in real life, I share a leisurely meal, laughing with friends in the sultry, fragrant spring air. I use my fine China, pretty wine glasses, and cloth napkins. We have a light lunch, nothing too labor intensive, a salad. But this is not just an ordinary salad, it’s a salade niçoise. It is special if for no other reason than you can say it with a French accent. I serve this salad as a meal accompanied by a fresh baguette and a crisp white wine, followed, of course, by dessert.

Salade niçoise is a regional dish from France, which usually includes local ingredients such as olives, tuna, and ancho-

vies. It is a composed salad in that it is arranged on each plate like a work of art. In the center of the plate, the tuna rests on a bed of lettuce, surrounded by the other components. Baby red potatoes, green beans, tomatoes, and hardboiled eggs are fanned around the plate, interspersed with accompaniments such as black olives, capers, and cornichons. The variations in texture and flavor create a delight for the senses, and each bite offers its own little thrill.

Salade niçoise looks more impressive and time consuming than it actually is. It is also a flexible dish. There is plenty of room for additions and substitutions, such as young carrots with their greens attached, radishes, red peppers, or anything else hanging around the kitchen. I sometimes use salmon for the tuna and almost always omit the anchovies.

The unifying element to the salad is the homemade vinaigrette with fresh herbs. It is easy to make, requiring only a few ingredients and a couple of minutes. It can be made ahead of time and somehow elevates the entire meal. Surprisingly, making a good hard-boiled egg can be the most challenging part of the whole endeavor.

There is an art to making the perfect hard-boiled egg. I freely admit that I have not quite mastered it yet, but not for lack of trying. Over the years, I have used various recipes only to end up with rubbery whites, yolks with sooty rings, and worst of all, shells that would not come off, creating divots and gouges in the smooth ovals. How could something that looks so easy be that easy to mess up?

Nowadays, my hard-boiled eggs do not turn out perfect all the time, but I have a higher success rate. I have learned, counterintuitively, not to use the freshest eggs. This helps the shells to slip off. And I have figured out that I must time the cooking exactly to avoid rubberiness and the black rim.

I place the eggs in one layer in the bottom of a pan with cold water to cover. I bring the water to a boil over high heat, turn it off immediately, cover the pan, and let it sit for fifteen minutes. I then pour out the hot water and run the eggs under cold water, drain and refill the pan with cold water. I let them stand until cool, at least twenty minutes. Finally, I peel the eggs under running water for easier removal of the shells.

I don’t like spending time on hard-boiled eggs when there are more important things to consider—like dessert. Dessert is a necessary and very important part of my life. When planning a meal, I often work backwards, starting with dessert.

When the weather turns warm, it brings to mind a marvelous treat that my mother served in the springtime. She called it Fairy Pie, and it’s so delicious that it should not be limited to any one season. I build my spring luncheon around it.

Fairy Pie is a no-fuss layer cake that conjures up happy memories from my childhood. Whenever my mother served it, everything became more festive and special. Although the cake can be assembled ahead of time, my mother would whip the cream just before serving. She would present it in all its fluffy, berry-dripping glory at the table for us to enjoy. We even had extra whipped cream and berries, which lent an air of decadence to the end of the meal.

There have been times when my elegant garden lunch has consisted of scoops of tuna salad, potato salad, and egg salad from the deli, with chopped vegetables from the refrigerator. I have served lunch on paper plates with plastic

cutlery and paper towels as napkins. I have fallen short of what I had envisioned. But I learned to let it go when I realized that no one seemed to notice or mind too much.

I have learned to savor these moments, the precious and fleeting time in spring, the lull before our outdoor summer activities start up. I revel in the promised kiss of springtime as the delights of nature pop up almost daily. I give myself over to enjoying the rise and fall of the conversation as my friends and I catch up with each other’s lives. I appreciate this as a “moment divine,” with Fairy Pie for dessert.

Tasty Vinaigrette

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

3 tablespoons vinegar, champagne or tarragon if possible

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon maple syrup

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1 small shallot, finely chopped

1 tablespoon chopped herbs, such as chives, parsley, tarragon, dill, or any combination

½ teaspoon fine sea salt

Fresh ground pepper, to taste

• In a large liquid measuring cup, combine all the ingredients and whisk well. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

• Store in a glass jar, and shake before serving. The vinaigrette keeps in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.

Lilyann’s Fairy Pie

½ cup butter

1 ½ cup sugar, divided

5 eggs, separated

¾ cup flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

4 tablespoons milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

¾ cup sliced almonds

1 pint heavy cream, whipped

1 pint raspberries or other berries

• Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Generously grease two 8- or 9-inch round pans.

• Cream together the butter and ½ cup of sugar. Add the egg yolks one at a time and beat well. Add the baking powder to the flour and stir half the flour mix into the bowl, followed by the milk and ending with the rest of the flour. Spread the mixture into the two pans.

• In another bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff, then beat in the remaining 1 cup of sugar until glossy. Spread the egg white mixture over each layer and sprinkle on the nuts.

• Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. After the cakes have cooled, put whipped cream and raspberries between the layers and on top of the cake. Serve with extra berries and whipped cream on the side, if desired.

By Jane Primerano

200 Years of History

Warren County

Joseph Warren never set foot in New Jersey.

The Boston physician died a hero in the Revolutionary War Battle of Bunker Hill. Probably more important to history was the fact that he recruited Paul Revere and William Dawes to ride off at midnight on April 18th, 1775, to warn John Hancock and Samuel Adams that the British were coming to arrest them

New Jersey’s Warren County is one of 14 so named in the nation. The doctor didn’t visit many of those states, but, apparently, he impressed the people who named counties.

When the New Jersey State Assembly first contemplated separating Sussex County into northern and southern parts in 1816, several names were suggested, including those honoring national figures Andrew Jackson, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington. During a second discussion in 1823, the name brought up was Paterson, after William Paterson, a signer of the Constitution, lawyer, senator, the second governor of New Jersey, and a Supreme Court Justice.

However, the next year, the Assembly decided on Warren for the newly separated southern end of Sussex County. The split that created Warren County was formalized on November 10, 1824.

In the purple prose of the time, the Assembly wrote:

“All the lower part of the County of Sussex beginning on the river Delaware at the mouth of Flatbrook in the township of Walpack and running from thence a straight course to the North East corner of Hardwick Church, situated on the south side of the main road leading from Johnsonburg to Newton and from thence in the same course to the middle of Musconetcong Creek be and the same is hereby erected into a separate county to be called the County of Warren and a line running from thence down the middle of the said Musconetcong Creek to where it empties into the Delaware, shall hereafter be the division line between the counties of Morris and Hunterdon and the said County of Warren.”

Monument in Hardwick Township marks the division of Sussex and Warren Counties.

Photo by Art Charlton

Calling the Musconetcong River a “creek” in the Assembly document seems somewhat insulting to the 45.7-mile long tributary of the Delaware, the largest in New Jersey. And most of the border between Warren and other counties is the Musconetcong.

Some of the survey descriptions in the documents about the county’s creation seem a bit esoteric today, but one is still familiar. The Yellow Frame Church still stands on the main road from Johnsonburg to Newton, now Route 94. One of the few pre-Revolutionary War churches still in consistent use, Yellow Frame Presbyterian Church was founded in 1750, made up of mostly residents of Log Gaol, now Johnsonburg, at that time the county seat of Sussex.

The county has 22 municipalities now. Upon separation from Sussex, there were seven: Greenwich, Mansfield, Oxford, Independence, Knowlton, Hardwick, and Pahaquarry. Over the years, municipalities split. The last division was on March 26, 1926, when Liberty Township was formed from part of Hope Township. That made 23, but in 1997, Pahaquarry Township was merged into Hardwick Township.

Pahaquarry fell victim to plans to dam the Delaware River at Tocks Island, creating a huge reservoir that would inundate most of the township as well as Walpack Township in Sussex County.

While a river basin study commissioned in 1930 called for dams and reservoirs along the river, including a dam of the main stem of the river at the southern tip of Tocks

Island, the study was not brought out until after the 1955 flood. Back to back hurricanes, Connie and Diane, caused 200 deaths on the East Coast, nearly 100 along the Delaware.

The Army Corps of Engineers dusted off the river basin study and proposed damming the main river. Planned was a 40-mile long reservoir averaging one-mile wide. The Corps started buying up properties in both counties, and 600 residents and property owners were displaced.

Protests started in 1964 and grew with newspaper editorials, rallies, and finally a study from Richmond Col-

lege (now the College of Staten Island) asserting that the cost-benefit analysis was flawed. Finally, the Delaware River Basin Commission voted to shelve the project in 1975. Some 70,000 acres were turned over to the National Park Service to become the Delaware Water Gap Recreation Area.

This left Pahaquarry with very few residents. Finally, there were only three registered voters and not enough people to run for the three-person township committee. The last mayor of Pahaquarry, Jean Zipser, presided at the meeting that merged Pahaquarry with Hardwick at the last meeting held at the former Calno schoolhouse on April 20, 1997.

Once the county was formed, several municipalities were in contention to be county seat. They petitioned for the honor in the weekly newspaper, The Belvidere Apollo. After a rather heated battle with Oxford, Belvidere won, and George Hiles, father-in-law of one of the Scranton brothers (George and Selden), donated the land for the courthouse. Garret D. Wall, an attorney and wealthy landowner, donated land for a public square, now named after him.

Of course, all this political cartography ignores the fact that the people who created these divisions were hardly the earliest residents of northwest New Jersey. Prior to the West Jersey Council of Proprietors purchasing all of the land above the Falls of the Delaware in 1713, the Lenape Tribe of the Algonquin Nation was well settled in the area.

tremely large and non-human variety. The Great Meadows, the flats along drained areas of the Pequest River in Independence, Liberty, and Allamuchy townships, turned out to be an excellent place for preserved bones. A mastodon skeleton found in Vienna when a bog was drained has been in the Harvard University Museum of Comparative Zoology since 1846.

Closer to home is the Liberty Bojak Mastodon, an adult (probably female) specimen discovered on a farm in Liberty Township. The 10,995-year-old specimen was mounted by employees of the state museum over a number of months in 1973 and was on display in Trenton until 2004 when it was placed in storage for its protection.

The preponderance of mastodon bones is due in large part to the fact that the terminal moraine of the Wisconsin Ice Age crosses Warren County, according to Henry M. Skirbst, a science teacher and author of “Living on a Moraine: The Physical and Cultural Impacts of the Terminal Moraine in Warren County, New Jersey,” prepared for the Warren County Historical Society in 1990.

Three subtribes built settlements in the hilly country east of the Delaware. The Minsi were “the people of the stoney country” in the north, the Unami were “the people down the river,” and the Unalachtigo were “the people near the ocean.”

The discovery of clam and mussel shells in the archeological excavations of Herbert Kraft along the Delaware provided evidence that the first inhabitants traveled to the Atlantic Ocean in warmer weather. The calcium-rich shells also helped preserve the remains of many of the residents. Kraft’s digs were along the Delaware River in both Sussex and Warren Counties, many within the Delaware Water Gap Recreation Area.

Kraft was a professor at Seton Hall University in South Orange and a curator at the university’s Museum of Archeology. His largest dig, along the Delaware near the county line, was memorialized in his book, The Miller Field Site, published in 1970. Unfortunately, not all the excavations of Native settlements were so professional, which has resulted in disturbance of important sites.

Other very early residents of the county were of the ex-

Mastodon bones and native sites fascinate modern residents, but the early Dutch settlers were digging for something very different—precious metals.

The discovery of copper ore and later iron resulted in the construction of the first major road in the American colonies as is chronicled in the book, The Old Mine Road by Charles Gilbert Hine, published in 1963. The road begins at the Delaware Water Gap and continues through Flatbrookville and Montague, enters New York State at Port Jervis, and goes through Ellenville before its terminus at Kingston.

Warren County boasts 11 belts of iron ore crossing the county’s highlands in a northeast-southwest direction. Mining begat smelting, and in 1741 Jonathan Robeson of Philadelphia built Oxford Furnace, which still stands on Washington Avenue in the center of Oxford. Robeson partnered with Joseph Shippen, Sr. and Dr. William Shippen, who built the manor house that is now a county museum.

In 1834, William Henry purchased the furnace and turned it into the first hot blast furnace in the United States. Henry built Lackawanna Steel in 1840 with the Scranton brothers who settled in Oxford before founding Scranton, PA. The Industrial Revolution was alive and well in Warren County.

One of the great engineering marvels of the 19th century, the Morris Canal, passed through the county. Actually, 33 of the 102 miles of the canal were in Warren County,

Bicentennial Logo by Michael Margulies

which has done the best job of preserving pieces of the structure of any counties the canal passes through. Bread Lock Park in Stewartsville and Plane 9 West not far from the park are two of the most impressive sections of the canal. The park includes a museum display of the canal. Plane 9 West, at 1,600 feet, was the longest inclined plane on the canal.

All of these pre-historic and historic factors and more came together in the Cultural and Heritage Commission’s planning for the county’s Bicentennial Celebration, which will continue through 2025.

The kickoff of the bicentennial celebration was a gala held at David’s Country Inn in Hackettstown on Tuesday, November 12th, 2024. It featured a costume contest, period dance instruction, and awards for long-time residents. Mackey’s Orchard in White Township was honored as the county’s longest operating farm. The First Presbyterian Church of Oxford at Hazen, which dates from 1734, was honored as the oldest church in the county on its original site. David Detrick was honored for his 42 years of service to organizations in the county.

Another honor took a different turn than expected. Longtime public servant Garabed “Chuck” Haytaian was to be

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honored as the Warren County Citizen of the Bicentennial, but the award had to be posthumous because Haytaian died on November 1st. The Mansfield Township resident was first elected to the township board of education in 1972. He later was a Warren County Freeholder and served in the State Assembly for 14 years, moving up to Speaker of the Assembly.

Commissioner James Kerns cited many of Haytaian’s contributions to the county and state, emphasizing his work in mandating Holocaust and genocide education in all New Jersey Public Schools. Many people at the gala knew Haytaian well, and his death so close to the event was a sobering note.

The festivities were enough to overcome that though, with Josh and Kamil Belverio of Classic Ballroom leading dignitaries in period dance moves and former Freeholder Richard Gardner decked out in a stunning red frock coat. It was three hours in the 18th century for the 20th century crowd.

The next event in the ongoing Bicentennial Celebration is Community Day at Warren County Community College, Saturday, June 28th, starting at noon with fireworks beginning after dark.

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Angels in Blue

It seemed absolutely futile, climbing up a rain-soaked hill with slick mud and antagonistic vegetation challenging our every step forward. The goal was simple… get the platoon to the top to support the firebase. Firebases were long-range artillery units on defoliated hilltops throughout South Vietnam. They were prized targets for the Viet Cong (guerillas) and North Vietnamese Army (NVA).

Infantry units like mine were given the opportunity to enjoy three days away from jungle life by providing the firebases with added security. Sandbag bunkers were a lot more comfortable than the wet leech-ridden ground we often slept on.

The climb took several hours, each step revealing another brilliant expletive by one of the men. We were excited to reach the top. We had heard that Donut Dollies were visiting the base. I had never met one. I just kept thinking that it would have been a lot easier to simply fly us up there in one of the 101st Airborne’s choppers. But military planning isn’t always designed for the convenience of the troops.

Drenched in our own sweat in the hundred percent humidity, we finally passed through the forest and onto dead earth. Cleaned of every scrap of vegetation that could hide the low-crawl of a sapper, the hill was cordoned off with concentric circles of razor wire.

A hundred feet from the top, we saw two girls waving at us. They were beautiful girls in light blue dresses. It was surreal given the dirty olive drab world we lived in.

We called them girls, but they were mature young women with a serious focus. They were there to support us and understood the risks. Mortar rounds could still be fired from the covert security of the jungle. A sniper could easily take a shot from half a mile away.

Donut Dollies offered the troops something the military couldn’t: a simple smile from the girl next door reassuring us that we have not been forgotten.

The day passed quickly. Most of us got to spend a few minutes chatting with one of the two Red Cross girls about where home was, how long we had been in-country, and

Continued on page 28

Posing for pictures was highly prized by the troops.

Photo by Carol Grell

Left: The author (center) and his squad mates taking a break on the climb up to the firebase.

Right: Donut Dollies preparing a game at firebase Bastogne in South Vietnam.

Photo by Carol Grell

Donut Dollies passing out paperback books to troops in Phu Loi, South Vietnam in 1968.

Photo by the American Red Cross

so on. And just like that, in a cloud of dust a helicopter lifted the pair of women skyward, waving to us cheering below. That was the last time I saw Donut Dollies for a while. Yet that short visit was just the shot of goodness we needed.

Within a few months, I was reassigned to the rear as a photographer, running a photo lab for the benefit of the troops. It was there that I met Carol Grell, an educated farm girl from Oregon who wanted to know how to develop a roll of film. Carol was a proud Donut Dollie, and we became lifelong friends. She inspired my deep appreciation for these angels in blue.

Donut Dollies were part of the American Red Cross Supplemental Recreational Activities Overseas (SRAO) program. Their mission was to boost morale, provide comfort, and bring a touch of home to soldiers. It is difficult to put into words the impact a warm smile can have on troops that have seen ungodly horrors. Yet these girls did exactly that, with an energy and dedication that simply inspired. The men, some fresh out of high school, cherished the Dollies’ visits and the occasional goodie bags containing a fresh bar of soap and shampoo.

The Donut Dollie program in Vietnam lasted from 1965 through 1972, bringing 627 young women to a warzone

fraught with uncertainty. They traveled millions of miles in helicopters, jeeps, and other military transport, occasionally targeted by snipers or in the path of incoming rockets.

Volunteers for the program followed strict guidelines. College educated, single women between 21 and 24 were selected based on congeniality, psychological fitness, and the ability to offer a compassionate ear. They brought those qualities to the field and hospitals, serving troops in a chow line and orchestrating recreational activities.

Carol’s own experience began with the return of a sorority sister completing her year-long tour of duty in Vietnam. She encouraged the challenge, describing it as a once-ina-lifetime opportunity to contribute to the welfare of the troops while experiencing an extraordinarily different cultural environment. It was a paid position offering around a hundred dollars a week.

Carol took the lead and went to San Francisco for an interview. A two-week training program at the Red Cross in Washington, D.C. followed, focusing on mission duties, recreation, military organizational structure, country history, and cultural considerations.

With the Red Cross training done, it was time for uniforms to be fitted. It was the 70s…miniskirts and bell bottoms were in vogue. The powder-blue dresses and culottes issued to Donut Dollies certainly did not appeal to most of the girls. Their first order of business before deployment was to raise the hemlines above the knee…something appreciated by the boys. Then it was off to Oakland to Hawaii to Saigon.

The Red Cross understood the implication of bringing young women to an environment dominated by tens of thousands of virile men. They were coached on proper protocols and not naïve to the possibility of harassment and romantic engagements. Dollies typically traveled in pairs when visiting the field.

The troops respected the girls dearly, treating them with the courtesy they deserved. We all understood that they were volunteers, and as vulnerable to enemy activity and Agent Orange as we were. Thrilled to be photographed with them, the men proudly sent pictures back home to their buddies. It was the best of war memorabilia.

Despite the name “Donut Dollies,” hardly a donut was seen in Vietnam. The tropical climate did not welcome a cup of hot coffee and donuts. Carol recalls only one time they were served. It was when Bob Hope visited the country.

The moniker Donut Dollie harks back to World War I. The Salvation Army organized a mission in 1917 to boost the morale of troops in England and later in France.

Top: Donut Dollies assigned to the 101st Airborne Division at Camp Eagle located near Hue.

Bottom: Doughnut Lassies, World War I, making pies for the troops near the front lines.

Photo by the Salvation Army

Young women of strong character were recruited to provide comforting resources to soldiers in the field and trenches.

Makeshift shacks were constructed near troop encampments. They served as kitchens and distribution points for small favors, including a Dutch treat…fried dough. The women serving the tasty rings were thus called Doughnut Girls, or colloquially Doughnut Lassies. Returning troops to the U.S. maintained a sentimental connection to the pastry.

While the Doughnut Girls were serving troops in World War I Europe, the American Red Cross established its canteen services to support troops in transport at railway stations and other strategic locations. It was a monumental effort as millions of soldiers were shuttled to their final destinations. The program expanded quickly with over 700 operations supported by 55,000 volunteers.

The American Red Cross Donut Dollie program got its launch in World War II. Women over 25 in excellent physical condition and high social intelligence were recruited. Only one in six made the cut. Dress codes were also strict, emphasizing a conservative uniformed look. Most served in small groups of three staffing Clubmobiles. Those custom fitted buses, the brainchild of Harvey D. Gibson, a retired U.S. Army colonel, were like the food trucks we see today, with mobile kitchens, donut fryers, coffee makers, and phonographs, all camouflaged in olive drab.

Scores of Clubmobiles followed the troops into Normandy. They drove to remote bases and camps, offering soldiers cigarettes, candy, gum, newspapers, and of course, coffee and donuts. Tens of thousands of donuts were made and served daily.

The success of the World War II program was tarnished by a mandate from U.S. Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson requiring the Red Cross to start charging soldiers for coffee and donuts. His reasoning was that American soldiers

were being paid well enough and could afford the nickel for a treat. Many of the women were shocked by this and used their own money to supplement the troops as much as they could. Unfortunately, the damage was done when letters home complained about the organization’s profiteering. It was an injustice. Fifty-two Red Cross women died in the war.

Things were better for the program during the Korean War. Nearly 900 young women served as Donut Dollies in South Korea, many using the Clubmobile as a base not just for donuts, but for recreational activities and games as well. The women endured the harsh conditions of the cold Korean winters, serving hundreds of gallons of hot coffee a day to weary soldiers.

The Clubmobile concept took a radical turn in Vietnam. Helicopters took over the task of bringing Donut Dollies to the troops, while recreation halls at base camps were erected with ping pong tables and games for those in the rear. Dollies assigned to on-base activities organized regular events for the men and were always available to lend an ear. For soldiers in the field, it was that rare meeting at a firebase or landing zone that offered the opportunity to visit with the young women.

Carol completed her tour of duty after a year, stating, “It was a sad, happy, and the best experience in my life.” She still corresponds with fellow dollies, reminiscing about the exciting times they had. “We see each other about once every ten years, bringing out our dusty collection of photographs and countless stories. They are bittersweet memories in that we miss the camaraderie but not the hardship associated with needless conflict.”

Recognizing the good work of the American Red Cross Donut Dollies, congress has a bill on the table to award a Congressional Gold Medal to members of the Red Cross Supplemental Recreational Activities Overseas (SRAO) program who served honorably during the Vietnam conflict.

by Patricia Romano

Photos

Zen and the Art of Fly Fishing

Outside my window a mist has descended over the valley, creeping up the hillside and across our property. The forsythias are in bloom, adding a burst of golden color to the otherwise drab landscape that is recovering from winter’s grasp.

A woodchuck, one of three kits that earlier this spring popped their heads out from below our woodshed, now waddles across the lawn. The pudgy rodent hesitates, lifts its head and stares toward the window, but after a few moments begins to munch on bits of newly sprouted clover and plantain that are damp with fog.

One of our two black Labs nudges my side, and I have to look twice to be sure it’s Winslow Homer and not his younger “brother,” Finnegan. I slide my hand from the keys of the laptop, my fingers scratching the top of the big dog’s head. As he curls around my legs, my mind turns toward the little stream that flows not far from our home and its wild trout that have survived flash floods, hawks, and herons, fish that this time of year are as cautious as the woodchuck that has interrupted its breakfast, once again looking up at my window.

It’s been a week or so since I’ve visited the brook, and as Winslow settles in, his chin resting on my foot, I find myself reflecting on that ribbon of water that slips down out of the foothills along the New Jersey side of the Kittatinny Mountains.

Throughout my high school years, I hiked the trails of Harriman Park, located in Rockland County, NY, across the border from my childhood home in northeast NJ. I spent weekends fishing the park’s warm-water lakes for bass, bluegills, and pumpkinseeds, fishing its narrow streams for trout eager for the worms I’d swing across the current.

face like dun-colored sailboats, tacking in the breeze, and the occasional swirl as trout rose to grab them. At the time, I did not know the names of the different bugs or when each species would rise from the stream bottom. Fortunately, I knew enough to match the insects I saw on that afternoon, and for the first time, fish came to my fly, not one, but over the course of the next hour, five fat brown trout.

As with most beginning anglers, I became obsessed with numbers, struggling to catch more and more fish. I’m not sure when, but eventually, I found myself on the West Branch of the Delaware River, which is where a trout measuring sixteen inches rose to an artificial fly, a Bluewinged Olive pattern meant to imitate the tiny mayflies that were emerging from the surface. It was the biggest trout I’d ever held, and from that day forward my search

for larger and larger fish began. Along the way, I collected rods, reels, nets, and waders, as well as boxes and boxes of flies containing every conceivable pattern to entice trout to my hand.

Sometime after college, I picked up a fly rod, my first, constructed by the Fenwick Company, a rod I still own. It took a number of seasons before I caught a fish on a fly. During those early years, I’d abandoned the fiberglass rod after an hour or so, returning to the spinning gear and my worms or the red-and-white Dardevle, a metal lure my father favored.

This continued until one weekend in late April when my father and I traveled to the Catskills to fish the fabled Beaverkill River. I remember mayflies floating on the sur-

One of the first things I did after moving to the northwest corner of New Jersey was to search out trout in the lakes, rivers, and streams of this part of our state. I fished the Paulinskill River and Flat Brook, the Pequest and Musconetcong Rivers. I remember the first time I stopped on a small bridge, staring down into the clear current of an even smaller stream and wondering if it held fish. On my way to a larger river, I returned a few weeks later, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Tramping along the bank that first afternoon, I entered a secret world, one hidden under the shadows of hardwood Continued on next page

and hemlock, protected by groves of barberry bushes, prickly brambles, and the thorns of wild roses. While casting my flies into the brook’s riffles and runs, wading around its hip-deep pools, and exploring its falls of water, I failed to come upon another angler. Admittedly, I also failed to locate a single trout, although there was that streak, a shadow within a shadow, as my line splashed upon the brook’s surface.

Slowly, over time, my lust for large fish waned. Drawn by its natural beauty, I returned to the little stream again and again. Sometime in my third season, I was rewarded with a finger-sized brook trout and later that year with a rainbow trout that fit snugly in my palm.

To learn more about this hidden water and the fish that call it home, I put aside my visions of leader-breaking bullies, left behind the bulky chest waders required in deeper rivers, and strapped a pair of hippers to the loops of my jeans. Leaving my longer fly rods, those constructed of space-age graphite, in their aluminum tubes, I selected a six-foot rod, crafted of darkly-flamed cane, the color of maple syrup left in the bucket after the Grade A syrup has been siphoned off.

At first it was hard to pass by those boxes and boxes of assorted flies accumulated over the years. You must understand, anglers are attracted to new flies and shiny gadgets like ancient Greeks to the Sirens’ song. Although it took some time, I came to realize that the overwhelming number of those fly patterns and all that gear were as much a distraction as a smart phone, iPad, or the latest app when working my way up a tiny stream no wider than the length of the little bamboo fly rod carried in my hand.

Lining a discarded pillbox with felt, I threw in a few wet flies (my favorite is the traditional Gold-ribbed Hare’s Ear) and a couple of dry flies, each comprised of fibers from a pheasant’s tail and a parachute wing, a pattern that trout find irresistible. While sharing the stream with songbirds flitting in and out of the dense foliage along either bank, I learned that this pared-down kit was sufficient to make the acquaintance of

brook, rainbow, and even the occasional secretive brown trout.

To be sure, the fish in these waters were diminutive when compared to those of larger rivers, but away from the well-trodden banks of the better-known streams, my only company were mink, muskrat, and beaver, the occasional deer, and the black bear that one summer evening lumbered out of the forest, seeking the same cool water that quenched my thirst for places wild.

Back in the sixties, during my early years at college, I read Thoreau and Emerson, Blake and Wordsworth, but soon afterward, it was all Hemingway and Steinbeck, later Harrison and McGuane. I discovered the beat writer, Jack Kerouac, and from his novels I learned of the writings of Gary Snyder, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet-turned-Buddhist, which introduced me to Han Shan, a Chinese hermit affectionately known as Cold Mountain. Han Shan more than twelve-hundred years ago scratched his “songs” on the leaves of bushes, in the bark of trees, and on the sides of caves.

After reading these poems soaked in the ancient mists of eastern China’s Tiantai Mountain, my attention crossed over the sea to the writings of Japan’s seventeenth-century Zen poet, Matsuo Basho, who I eagerly followed as he traveled The Narrow Road to the Deep North.

This morning, surrounded by books and bits of art, I swing my hand away from the keys of my laptop, lean down, and stroke Winslow’s back. Once the fog dissipates, we’ll spend some time walking around our property. Finnegan will join us, the two dogs trotting by my side until they catch the woodchuck’s scent. After they’ve worn themselves out, I’ll spend the remainder of the afternoon with my single tin of flies and little cane rod, my gear as sparse as a Cold Mountain song, my fishing as spare as a Basho haiku.

For lingering in those quiet places where fish live out their secret lives, I’ve come to discover that Robert Frost’s “road less traveled” runs alongside a little stream where wild trout are willing to rise to a bit of feather, fur, and tinsel if cast with care.

Dr. Sherri Talbot-Valerio

Aries (March 20-April 19) – Neptune has entered your sign for the first time since 1861. This is visionary, and you are the one to whom the vision will be coming. Yet you might not quite notice the presence of Neptune except for the sound of your ears popping and the pressure relief as it exited your 12th solar house. So tune in. Visit your inner life. Do things to encourage the establishment of interior space. It will be entirely necessary as a means of navigating your life and staying grounded in your personal reality — rather than a dream or fantasy.

Taurus (April 19-May 20) – You have an inner world that you knew you contained, but had no idea the depth and intensity of your private cosmos. If you want to experience the potential and the beauty of the moment, I suggest you drop any notion that people might think you’re weird. It’s high time you give up any ridiculous effort to pretend you are not who you are. Get out of your own way. You are joyfully beyond any need to impress anyone with your purity and innocence.

Gemini (May 20-June 21) – There is an old expression about how it’s not what you know, but rather who you know that determines your success, and for you that is likely to be true. Your life is now populated with people you never imagined existed, or thought you would get anywhere near. All you have to do is be sincere and remain present for every conversation. Look for signs of curiosity and invitations for engagement.

Cancer (June 21-July 22) – Your chart describes a series of breakthrough moments in your vocation or profession. It’s more important that you get a good start than it is that you drive anything to some expected conclusion. You might use as your mantra, “There is no rush.” And you don’t want to — that will take away the fun of exploration. You are learning about yourself, finding out what you know and giving yourself opportunities to grow in ways you had not imagined before.

Leo (July 22-Aug. 23) – You stand at the brink of a religious conversion to the First Church of Self-Actualization. By this I mean a radical commitment to growth and maturity; or said another way, a spiritual path based on a relationship to your deep inner being and its quest on the planet at this time. This implies that you are discovering and realizing something that already exists and that you do not have to make or create; you were born this way.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sep. 22) – For too long, getting serious about your money situation has evaded your grasp. You might think it’s not in your nature to focus on prosperity. Yet as a Virgo, one of your most important necessities is to develop resources in ways that are aligned with your values. And once you know what means the most to you, you can do something about it — and that’s what’s happening now. What you’re learning about yourself is revealing possibilities that before seemed unrealistic or unnecessary.

Libra (Sep. 22-Oct. 23) – You may have experiences in your intimate relationships this month unlike anything before. And it’s important that you not pre-judge them as good or bad, meaningful or not. Careful observation is required, and that calls for patience. Sit with your feelings without deciding much. These developments are about your own growth, which means how you respond. Your experiences in your relationships are about being human. That means seeking understanding, growth, connection, happiness, pain and loss: all of the above.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 22) – It would be too easy to lose yourself in work when your spirit is calling for devotion to your healing process. Healing from what? All that ails you; all that worries you; all that you know hinders you. This takes time, commitment and patience; and in your life even more than most other people, there is always something to do, some new battlefront, some new challenge. Leave that aside for a while, and focus on your human necessities.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 22) – Your astrology describes the perfect blend of elements needed for a personal rebirth. You are building the confidence to find yourself in the present moment. Enlightenment may amount to recognizing that to truly meet existence consciously is nothing more or less than a bold creative experiment. But you can easily hide this under some expectation of what you have to do with your entire day. You have more flexibility than you imagine, if you would only dare.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 20) – Few want to acknowledge that all the world’s problems have their roots in sexual hangups. Every last human encounter distills down to the essential moment where life is created, where companionship is sought, and where our most basic biological and emotional needs seek fulfillment. This is not a reductionist view; without sex there is no life. Consider this equation: how you feel about sex is how you feel about the fact that you’re alive.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 19) – If you are blessed with one thing, it’s the ability to have your own ideas. This includes the potential to run your mind in a way contrary to what others believe. However, you can get swept up in the status quo. Well, now is the time to stop and think — for yourself. This will surely apply to specific situations in your life, and also to the big picture of what is happening to our society — and what your relationship to it is.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20) – The key to happiness and sanity for anyone with Pisces prominent in their chart is living in accord with their values. That comes back to one’s purpose, deepest motivations, and ultimately to why you came into this life at all. It’s way too easy to sell that out for a paycheck unrelated to what you actually care about — or directly contradicting it. Yet every cell in your body is encouraging you to step up to your truth and to your promises to yourself — now and not later.