When I Still Lived In Manhattan, People-watching

Winter In The Country Is Very White. There Is Black Grit On All The Shoulders Of The Roads And On The Big Mounds From The Plows, And All The Cars Are Filthy, But The Fields Are Dazzling And Untouched And Pristine.

There Will Always Be Vain, Obsessive People Who Want To Own Rare And Extraordinary Things Whatever The Cost; There Will Always Be People For Whom Owning Beautiful, Dangerous Animals Brings A Sense Of Power And Magic.

I Finally Overcame My Phobia, And Now I Approach Flying With A Sort Of Studied Boredom - A Learned Habit, Thanks To My Learn-to-fly-calmly Training - But Like All Former Flying Phobics, I Retain A Weird And Feverish Fascination With Aviation News, Especially Bad News.

I Approach Stories As A Private Educational Enterprise: I Want To Learn About Something. I Teach Myself Through Research, Reporting, And Thinking, And Then, When I Feel Like I Know The Story, I Tell It To Readers.

My Inspiration Is Really Very Simple: I'm Struck By Things That I Want To Know More About. I Really Do React Just As A Curious Person: Who Is This Person? What's The Story Behind This Situation? Why Do People Like This Or Dislike This Thing?