It was 25 years ago that I met John Cruz. I was outside his house playing guitar in the Irish style of dropped tuning where you slack the strings.

Winter, summer, spring and fall, Martha’s Vineyard depends on volunteers.

Come in June, she said, when rising tides are full of fish and days are long and summer is a bright prospect on the horizon.

I am not used to ill health in myself, which is why not too long ago I signed up to build a chimney with a friend.

“Millions viewed the eclipse.” So said the mainland newspapers, and the Vineyard added its thousands to the common mass.