by Robert P. Barsanti The ocean, they say, is a great bluffer. I am a person who checks the weather. I fell to bed last night to the threat of a great storm that would scour the land, lash the water, and shatter the bluffs. I woke in the early […]

by Robert P. Barsanti The land forgets. It will forget the children that ran on it. It will forget the builders who put up the summer house. It will forget the golfers driving over the rise and watching their balls roll down the fifth fairway. Eventually, even, it will forget […]

by Robert P. Barsanti The Fates were drinking wine. The 2:30 Hy-Line left Hyannis fully loaded with brides, guests, and consorts. Once out of the harbor, the swells came broadside at the ferry and rolled it in wind and spray across the Sound. The Fates sat outside, under baseball caps […]

by Robert P. Barsanti This is a weird year. Not only do Washington, London, and Hong Kong seem out of kilter, so does the school calendar. This year, unlike last year, school will begin after Labor Day. In my beautiful and eternal childhood, the school year always began on the […]

by Robert P. Barsanti September is here and the fields are calling. Football fields, soccer fields, field hockey fields—if you can still find them. The exodus has swollen in earnest. Yukons and Suburbans and Defenders, laden with the surfboards and beach chairs, are rolling onto the boat and heading back […]

by Robert P. Barsanti We were all out of the water, while the sharks swam with the jellyfish. They could have been swimming with killer whales and mermaids, the fog was so thick you could only see one wave out to sea. On the other hand, the air remained warm […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Even at 6 pm you can find sandals at the beach. They remain paired and herded at the base of a dune, or underneath the Rosa Rugosa, or at the foot of the stairs. All the brands are represented, from Nike to J.J. Newberry’s to L.L.Bean […]

by Robert P. Barsanti I have become blind to phones. I understand that we live in a time when people can enter their own digital bubble, mentally recline on the electric curve, and watch the fun swirls—I know the attraction of Words with Friends. But, on a Saturday afternoon in […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Not surprisingly, I was stuck in traffic on Quaker Road. A sprinkler had been left on out in Madaket, and I was making my way out there in the late evening. My boon companion and I had had a hot day, but we were without air-conditioning […]