A simple nightly routine with my dogs led me to face the wings of doom, a hideous creature that lurks in the shadows of my yard.

Sotheby’s auctioned Maurizio Cattelan’s “Comedian” for $6.2 million Wednesday. It’s a banana duct-taped to a wall. Totally artistic monkey business.

How much chaos can come from a simple morning task with the dogs? Let’s sum it up with the phrase “walking catastrophe.”

For morning people, the end of daylight saving time is the difference between night and day, at least for the precious early moments of the day.

Hurricane Helene was a monster storm, but the way it hit Western North Carolina couldn’t have been much worse.

Hurricane Helene devastated Asheville and the surrounding mountains. Our walnut tree was but a minor victim of her wrath.

As soon-to-be Hurricane Helene grows in the gulf, it seemed appropriate to parody the classic song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton.

Thirty-five years ago, a massive storm hammered our region and left a path of destruction, leaving us with Hurricane Hugo memories.

Mama Bear crashed through the underbrush, growling and snorting with her eyes locked on her targets—us. Her warning was clear.

A growing cacophony of chaos warned us of their imminent arrival, but we couldn’t escape before they mobbed us.

An interspecies dispute seemed minor until the Hawk Mafia delivered an unmistakable reply in the early morning hours.

If I hadn’t visited the gym on New Year’s Day, I would have never witnessed treadmill love. I thought I would share my misfortune with you.