View from Ellis Island

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© JBReid 2010

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Coco: a furry feline friend

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First Hug      Fourteen years ago, I adopted two kittens, litter mates, Coco and Mango.  Coco was the delicate brother, the runt of the litter.  He appeared aloof but allowed me to scoop him into my arms for a first hug.  I loved his snow white boots and white chest. He was a handsome cat. We instantly knew we were meant to be together.       The first years brought a flurry of gymnastics between Coco and Mango.  They tackled and stalked one another, played endlessly with anything that moved, and their curiosity was boundless, from ordinary household items to the majesty of a sunrise. This photo was published in The Record, May 2002 .              Mr. Coco had a habit of running out the door whenever he could.  H knew he wasn't meant to be a house cat but a fearless hunter roaming the grass and bushes.  It would sometimes take an hour to retrieve  him back to the safety of the home.  Ironically, he would cry while he was outside and once back to cozy comfort, would set
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A Visit to Manitoga

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Regal and inspiring were my initial reactions when I entered Manitoga, the paradise created by Russell Wright, one of the most influential industrial designers of the 20th century.  The elegant structural landscape he meticulously planned and planted is a living painting where a visitor can "step into" to complete the whole picture.  Upon arriving back home, I wrote the following two poems, "The Gem in the Quarry"and "Where I Stood" both inspired by the visit and photos. Russell Wright's Home and Studio built on top of the quarry The beautiful view looking out from kitchen. The Gem in the Quarry by Joan Bellofatto Reid Manitoga, a great spirit oversees days, seasons, years. Here it stays teeming with life, light, longevity. Fauna, foliage, ferns, burst at the edges of trails. Beds of moss green, soft and lush kiss the grounds. Rambling, rough pebbles, rocks, and boulders together transform a once abando
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Finding New in the Familiar

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It’s a road I have traveled dozens of times, maybe hundreds by car or bicycle for the past twenty years but it wasn’t until I took a meander-ing walk this summer when I came upon an area of town which I had never noticed. Something new found in the familiar was a peaceful apple orchard with trees living in silent community waiting for any passerby to visit.  A posted sign indicated the park was open to the public.  Hey, that’s me, Joan Q. Public.    A wrought iron gate led me to a path which looped around a bend to an old foot bridge that may have covered a shallow brook at one time.  This secluded gem was obviously well-maintained by the  hamlet of Pearl River while respecting the integrity of the original grounds.  I didn’t know at first it was an apple orchard until I walked closer to the trees. There were clusters of small apples  throughout the branches of each tree.  I reached for one to take it home as if I had found some treasure. Just as I was leaving a woman wal
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