We are back at work, back to school, back to our authentic lives with their hazards and rewards.

Whether you are packing up to leave this blessed lump of a rock or you are the Vineyarder on shore waving good-bye, there is a poignancy attached to this weekend, unlike any other kind of new year rotation. Labor Day pangs happen all over, but for obvious reasons the tug is more pronounced here.

If you are are a true believer, you have been praying and crossing your fingers for Hurricane Erin to hook a right and fizzle in the middle of the ocean.

At one time, a West Tisbury resident might be invited to be a judge at the fair — more fun than jury duty, more culturally appealing than serving as the town’s insect control chief.

Welcome to August. And to the August people, many of whom are renters, I think.

I used to think the term ‘dog days’ applied only to August, but surely this whole summer has been suitably scorching.