Speaking of Marlins, do you think we'll ever hear about Sixto Sanchez again?

My class about writing about birds is always a hill of fun, and there are two spaces left in the one I’m about to teach (starts 4/24). If you’re interested, learn more at www.chipblake.com/classes, or email me at chip@chipblake.com.

Not great when you wake up and see that it's 8 degrees and think "Wow I'm going to be able to do something outside today."

6 degrees and blue skies in Red Hook, NY. The cat, eying the cat carrier sitting next to the front door, looks anxious.

31 degrees and snow flurries in Great Barrington, Mass. The sight of a leashed dog wearing red neoprene boots leads me to remember that dogs evolved from wolves.

This is why we need writers.

31° and partly sunny in Red Hook, NY. My morning resolution to lose weight is immediately followed up with a big glass of eggnog. #fail

35 degrees and 4 inches of fresh snow in Red Hook, NY. As we watch a harrier and a red-tail fly over the field, SFR remarks that it's like watching the athletic kid and the nonathletic kid run across the playground.

People really need to read or re-read On Immunity by Eula Biss, myself included.

According to eBird I am the 2,716th best birdwatcher in the world.

Excited to hear about this new MFA in environmental writing program, which aims to launch next fall and be headed up by my friend David Gessner. davidgessner.net/study-enviro...

39° and blue skies in Plymouth, Mass. SUSC WWSC BLSC HOGR LTDU RTLO COLO and all is right with the world.

My desires are pretty simple: to be alone, with someone to write to.

36° and snowing in Red Hook, NY, and someone isn't happy about it.

Stated at dinner (Tivoli, NY): "I was fabulously glamorous until a year ago."

37° and partly sunny in Lenox, Mass. The birders on our regular Wednesday bird walk are a little less in a trauma state than they were three weeks ago, but not by much.

Say hello to Jonathan he was born in 1832 & is 192 years old

37° and raining in Pittsfield, Mass. "Well done," I say to the young man who has just drawn my blood. "I know," he responds.

Maybe next time.

38 degrees with blue skies in Red Hook, NY. The crown of snow on the summit of Kaaterskill High Peak looks like a yarmulke.