The Record-Review – The official newspaper of Bedford and Pound Ridge, New York


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The official newspaper of the towns of Bedford and Pound Ridge, New York


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JULY 26, 2013

‘Pops, Patriots and Fireworks’

Pound Ridge/Scotts Corners

  1. Scotts Corner Market – Trinity Corners Shopping Center;  55 Westchester Avenue

  2. Pound Ridge Sunoco — 66 Westchester Avenue    

  3. Sam Parker Country Market — 257 Westchester Avenue    

Bedford Village

  1. Bedford Rexall Pharmacy — Hunting Ridge Mall; 424 Old Post Road  

  2. Village Green Deli — Village Green; Routes 22 and 172    

  3. Bedford Shell — Routes 22 and 172 (at blinking light); 848 So. Bedford Road

  4. Village Service Center —193 Pound Ridge Road (at Long Ridge Road intersection)    

Bedford Hills

  1. Bedford Hills Deli – 7 Babbitt Road    

  2. Bueti’s Deli – 526 Bedford Road (Route 117)


  1. NoKA Joe’s – 25 Katonah Avenue    

  2. Steger’s Paper Mill – 89 Katonah Avenue    

  3. Katonah Pharmacy – Katonah Shopping Center; 294 Katonah Avenue   

  4. Bagel Shoppe – Katonah Shopping Center; 280 Katonah Avenue    

  5. Katonah Sunoco – 105 Bedford Road

Mount Kisco

  1. Teamo/Mt. Kisco News – 239 Main Street    

Cross River

  1. Bagel Boys Café – Cross River Shopping Center; Routes 121 and 35    

  2. Cross River Shell Station – Route 35    

  3. Cameron’s Deli –  890 Route 35    

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All Things Natural

Translating the cry of the loon


The day was hot, the dew point hung thick and low, and the kids were boiling over like cars with broken water pumps. It was one of those summer afternoons with children that starts badly and, if you don’t act fast to change the dynamic, heads someplace worse in a hurry.

A solution lay at hand. A canoe was lashed to the roof of the car, buoyancy vests and paddles were tossed into the trunk, and a cooler and backpack were filled with drinks, sandwiches and snacks. Just in the nick of time and sanity, we hopped in and zoomed to Little Green Pond.

The kids had one last fight left in them as we got out of the car. It ended seconds later when they hit the water. Tempers cooled. Spirits immediately rose. We could have done nothing but stayed in that spot and the day would have been salvaged and then some.

But across the pond, barely within range of binoculars, a pair of loons floated and dove for fish, crayfish and whatever other morsels they could catch. We’d heard a report of baby loons being on the pond. It appeared that one of the birds had an object on its back. Could it be a riding hatchling? We’d have to get a closer look.

Into the water went the canoe and into the canoe went the four of us. We paddled steadily, trying to impress upon Ned, 9, and Tassie, 8, that if they contributed to the effort we’d get our fill of birds sooner rather than later and leap once more into the water. They listened. Then they returned to what they were doing — tapping each other on the head with their paddles.

Parent power got us to the birds and parent power kept us paddling in their vicinity until we had our fill. The object on the back of one of the loons proved to be not a brown and fuzzy hatchling but a foot stuck up in the air. The bird was doing t’ai chi, or something like it.

In time the loon count doubled to four. It’s a funny thing about these birds; often in summer you find a group of adults out in the middle of a lake, engaging in a social interaction that resembles a cocktail party. Meanwhile, someplace else on or near the water the eggs or offspring fend for themselves.

It’s important when boating near loons to observe proper etiquette, and we made sure we did. It consists of staying far enough away that the birds remain relaxed. If you get too close, they twitch and flee. They also make what is known as their tremolo call. It sounds like laughter but is in fact a cry of distress and hostility.

Apparently we didn’t frighten the loons on Little Green. Later, after we made landfall on a rocky peninsula and began diving and cannonballing into the water, two of the birds swam right past us. They didn’t mind the ruckus in the least. For more than an hour the loons remained in the vicinity, drifting placidly on a westerly breeze, diving and bursting up from the depths to swallow tiny fish.

A day that had begun in gloom and conflict ended in sunshine and play. We’d arrived agitated. We departed serene, the better for the fresh air and the horseplay. And the loons stuck with us. Their exquisite pen-and-ink profiles and stout dagger-pointed bills floated fresh in our thoughts until bedtime.

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