News and Events for Nantucket Island
• by Robert P. Barsanti • I was thinking about how strange it is. My two boys and I have spent much of the summer at Cisco this year. Freed from the predictable pattern of the pond, they run through the dunes, spray themselves with sun screen and plunge into […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • I missed the blueberries this season. On a day in the middle of the week, I walked to a spot in the middle of the island and found the branches bare. Rather, they only held small BB’s which could have been blueberries in a […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • Through a happy accident, I spent ten days on Kauai. Hawaii is everything Elvis promised us it would be: beautiful flowers, great surf, and barbecue. We spent days in a different ocean and nights under unfamiliar stars. By the end of our stay, all […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • His father and I sat in the wicker chairs and considered Sunday afternoon from the living room of the family summer house. We sat in fifty-year-old bamboo chairs, with cold drinks, and the ticking of the afternoon soft in our ears. Sometime soon, he […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • In late June, Nantucket sets us apart. For the rest of the country, and the state, the first burns of summer arise. The air builds a curtain of water, the heat pins everyone and everything down, and the clouds ascend into towers of thunder. […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • Thirty-five weddings went off this weekend. Thirty-five brides in big white dresses, thirty-five nervous grooms. Thirty-five wedding parties heading off to town, then to the Box, and then finally to a boat. All of those friends and family, along with their Greek brothers and […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • On this Sunday morning, the coffee is percolating, the coffee cake has been cut and tasted, and the newspaper is spread out over the table. Its various sections are weighed down by books. The house remains quiet. This is a house of bookcases. They […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • At the Downyflake last weekend, I noticed that I took my coffee in the same way that my father did, regular with too much cream. He drank his coffee every morning with the same slobbers of sugar and milk building up on the table […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • The good news finally arrived this weekend. It came over with a wedding party on a rocking ferry in a thick, thirty-degree fog on Friday. We had prepared for more bad news this weekend; we lined up polar fleece, long pants, sweaters, and a […]
