Sunny Sunday in February

Emily Dickinson's house, minus some of the trees that had grown up over the years to obstruct such a view of it.

Over 200 trees are coming down to reflect the way the property looked when she was alive. It seems the house wasn't shrouded in shade like the site of a horror movie back then. Occasionally I like to refer to the town's famous poet in newspaper stories as in one of my favorite opening lines that I have written: "If Elements Hot Tub Spa had been across the street from her house when Emily Dickinson was still alive, would she have been writing verses like "I felt a funeral in my brain"?" I though this was quite funny, but no one ever told me they thought so. That's why some reporters like blogging a lot; you're more likely to get feedback of the non-negative kind.


Connie Lentz sent me this pic of an eagle in a tree off Bay Road yesterday. She's an experienced bird watcher and she said it was a awesome to see it.


Nina pointed out to me that anybody can make their own funny Obama snowball comic strip at Superpoop.com. Check it out!