Matthew Dickerson
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Matthew Dickerson: Advent, waiting and origins of Middle Earth
Today — the day this column is published — is the final day of Advent 2020. If the world doesn’t end tonight, tomorrow morning it will be Christmas.…
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Matthew Dickerson: Sound of a squirrel scampering
This fall I fell into a trap. The trap was only metaphorical. It was a trap of noise and busyness. And I didn’t so much fall into it,…
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Matthew Dickerson: On being taunted (by wildlife)
My father, on “good” years when his work permitted it, would get away in the autumn on short deer-hunting trips to Western Maine, about a four-hour drive away…
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Matthew Dickerson: Muted colors (and expectations)
The rain came rolling in on Thursday with a forecast of three days of precipitation. After a summer both dryer and warmer than average, the state needed rain,…
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Matthew Dickerson: Autumn in Alaska and the colors of Dolly Varden char
When I visited Alaska in 2003 with my father for a six-day wilderness float trip, bookended on both sides by day-and-a-half-long visits to a wilderness fishing lodge, I…
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Matthew Dickerson: Catching trout in tough conditions
I was working on an article about a couple Vermont trout streams for a national fly fishing magazine. The story required some photos, which meant I needed another…
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Matthew Dickerson: Woods and fields offer different walking pleasures
My wife Deborah and I recently moved from an in-town dwelling in Middlebury back to an in-woods dwelling in Bristol. In the house we just left, it was…
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Matt Dickerson: Memories of wilderness and a father’s legacy
I was sitting in an alpine meadow beside a small river in southwestern Wyoming when the familiar yet mysterious sound triggered the childhood memory from Maine. It was…