I saw a Monarch butterfly
Just now inside the park
And thought of the unlikelihood of Mexico
Where his breed is bound to go.

In our Chilmark yard the trees reach higher and higher to the sky. The old timers in the town told us that many years ago our land was a pasture for grazing cattle owned by local farmers.

I swear I was born swimming laps. I have always craved the water.

Every once in awhile when I was a child summering at East Chop, a four or five-masted schooner would come into sight, white sails filled with wind.

Alternately menacing and amorous, Thoth and Lila’Angelique of Tribal Baroque sang, fiddled, percussed, and danced.

Gay Head Light

In Memoriam: Todd Follansbee