It is as if there are two Connecticut Rivers.

There is the beautiful Connecticut, picturesque, spanned by covered bridges, framed by mountains, rich with cultural history, with large and luxuriant marshes at its mouth.

Hiking with friends in Hurd State Park yesterday we came upon a most unusual mushroom, a whitish, shaggy-looking thing growing in a crevice in a silver maple on the banks of the Connecticut River.

Stopped by the community vegetable garden at mid-morning after a frost last night, the second one this week. The tender plants like basil are dead. The hardy plants, like carrots and turnips, are fine. I picked some turnips, a cluster of beautiful carrots, a couple of small eggplant that somehow survived the cold this week and some kale.

Prominent through much of the Ken Burns series “The National Parks: America’s Best Idea,” is John Muir, an early and persuasive voice for preservation of significant natural areas. I ran into a friend at Starbucks the morning after the first segment. He wanted to know more about Muir. “You have any books on Muir?”

At Sedona, Arizona I know them only as Kristen and Phyllis, two birders from Cottonwood, Az. I met them while hiking along the West Branch of Oak Creek, in the Coconino National Forest. With binoculars around my neck and a field guide in hand, it wasn't hard to peg me as a fellow birder.