For The Birds

By Brian Kluepfel On Sunday morning we were awakened by the insistent tapping of a blue jay, and then a red-bellied woodpecker, trying desperately to break off a crust of aging bread left out on the terrace. Other birds gathered

By Brian Kluepfel Birding can take on many aspects: observing birds outdoors, marveling at photographs of birds and reading accounts of avian-obsessed adventurers of days gone by. It all depends upon your fancy. This month, you’ve got a wealth of

By Brian Kluepfel What’s the size of a Coke can, lives in old knot holes and comes in three different colors? If you guessed screech owl, you’d be correct. These pint-sized predators, existing in more than 25 genera across the

By Brian Kluepfel Twenty-nine brave souls gathered at the gates of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery last weekend for a bit of birding and graveyard touring. Our tour guide Christina reminded us that more than 47,000 souls are buried on this hillside

By Brian Kluepfel I was not well this weekend. Felled by a one-two punch of a cold and seasonal allergies, I remained relatively housebound for Saturday and Sunday. I elicit no pity or sympathy; sometimes the body needs rest. And

By Brian Kluepfel In south-central Bolivia’s dry river valleys of Mizque, Grande and Pilcomayo, near the site of Che Guevara’s demise, a cinematic macaw is clawing its way back from the brink, with a little help from its friends. Goats,

By Brian Kluepfel Those who’ve seen the film adaptation of David Mamet’s “Glengarry, Glen Ross” will never forget Alec Baldwin’s brilliant monologue to his real estate team, ending with the mantra: ABC. “ABC. Always Be Closing,” Baldwin scrawls on a blackboard and shouts

By Brian Kluepfel Many images come to mind when the words Las Vegas are spoken, but likely not one of abundant riparian ecosystems within 30 minutes of the infamous strip. Yet over the past three decades the Las Vegas Wash

By Brian Kluepfel Birds do it, Bees do it, Even educated fleas do it. –“Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love),” by Cole Porter, 1928 While strolling the grounds of Mariandale Center in Ossining this week, I noticed an area