I’ve sometimes wondered whether we would ever see the obit announcing that the death of a particular Islander means that the very last tie to the old ways of Martha’s Vineyard is irretrievably broken.

I have lived on the Vineyard since 1979 and am recovering from my fourth bout of Lyme disease.

Is it me or has anybody else noticed that the number of auto honkers has increased over the past five years?

Information zips outward faster than the ripples from a stone thrown in a pond.

He said he could talk a pack/of dogs off a meat truck but/what we noticed was how/straight and easily he stood/on the uneven rocks, how well/he told a story

And then, like September herself waved a magic wand, the Island is transformed.