Trudging the last half-mile of steep uphill while pulling the sled and groceries was less fun.

By John N. Cole Of all the winds that blow, I like the northwest best. It is rare as a summer wind along this upper corner of the...

The house was a sad thing in the daylight. It sat on a hilltop, a sagging pile of weathered clapboards and crumbling brick...

By John N. Cole I am no longer sailing the same waters I did as a fisherman more than a decade ago, but much of the same exuberance I...