It was one of those late Indian summer days in early November and I was in my canoe, the one that cannot sink, on Forest Lake near the Canadian border waiting for some ducks to come in.

When I reached the top of Slide Mountain many winters ago, I found a small plaque to Catskills nature writer John Burroughs declaring that, from here, “the works of man dwindle.”

I’m not a doctor. I’m a serial entrepreneur with my share of losses and wins. I’ve spent summers on the Vineyard my entire life.

Let us go with you / out on one last tow / How your wake / curls / early morning / crystal cold / rolling down light house point / Big wolf moon rising tide / lets you cut the shoal / a little close.

A deep-freeze and four inches of snow settle over the Island on Christmas morning, 1977.

Erica Price and her dog, Lucy, were waiting outside at the Woods Hole Steamship Authority terminal on Wednesday, Dec. 24, radiating patience and the spirit of Christmas joy amid a stressful afternoon.