Stepping aboard a tall ship for the first time, a person cannot help but wonder and be amazed at the myriad lines.
As another black history month comes to an end, I think about what it has meant, and will continue to mean moving forward.
As I listen to the morning news reporting the upcoming milestone of 500,000 dead in the U.S. from Covid-19, I think of my mother.
Eureka. Last week, we had more snow days. I could follow deer and rabbit tracks in the snow. I could crunch through fields of snow. I was delighted.
I am being driven around the Island by my son Hardy, from Oak Bluffs to Edgartown, across to Vineyard Haven, then up through West Tisbury, Chilmark...
Upon a Christmas of certainly another lifetime, the man who had time-shared my wife with me exercised his option.
Before there was sugar, there were parsnips.
The recent election of U.S. Sen. Rev. Raphael Warnock reminds us that seven of America’s 11 black senators have strong ties to the Vineyard.
At last, on Monday snow fell up- Island, enough to cover fields and roofs and stone walls.
The year 2020 was a year unlike anything any of us have ever experienced before; we said that often.
For Platt, my brother.
A few weeks ago, I was scrolling through my Instagram feed at bedtime and saw a photo of my 90-year-old Dad.

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