by Robert P. Barsanti I made a mistake. In the last week of July, I slipped out for a downtown dinner, then with the cash left in my pocket I went to get ice cream. The evening was young, the line was short, and luck perched on my shoulder. Alas, […]
Nantucket Essays
Our Roots
by Robert P. Barsanti Nantucket beaches peak around two o’clock in the afternoon. The long time readers and surfers have been on the beach since eleven, their tent-cities are well established, and at last one three-foot deep sand pit has been dug. Perhaps, if there are young children involved, a […]
Deep in the Sand
by Robert P. Barsanti There is no feeling in the world quite like the one when your car sinks into the sand. The tires will still spin, the sand will fly, but everything else has sunk by about six inches. If you are particularly lucky, you will have an audience […]
Farewells
by Robert P. Barsanti I went to St. Paul’s Fair last week with the youngest of the tribe. Within minutes he had acquired a Red Sox batting helmet for fifteen dollars less than any other island price. He found old school friends in their new playground and led them through […]
Kings of Summer
by Robert P. Barsanti When they went to the beach for the first time this year, the waves were rolling. Waist high breakers staggered into the steep beach, collapsed, and then rolled back out and tangled the feet of the next wave. The tide curved the waves into the beach, […]
Municipal Rain
by Robert P. Barsanti The Fourth of July is easy to avoid. Out on the water, or at the beach at Cisco, the Fourth of July is not all that different from the Fourth of August or even the Fourth of September. The sun shines, the breeze blows and thunderheads […]
Bluff Walk
by Robert P. Barsanti My son took me out for some exercise at ten on Sunday. In the unexpectedly clear and cool June morning, we set out from Larsen’s memorial near the Sconset market and headed north to the Bluff walk. Sunday had floated up out of September and landed […]
Calms of Heaven
by Robert P. Barsanti We were at Reunion and the President was mad at us. He did not come out and scold us over our chicken salad and quinoa. He was very proud of our contribution to the school. He celebrated the soldiers and entrepreneurs that our class had presented. […]
You Don’t Need To Go Home, But You Can’t Stay Here
by Robert P. Barsanti The fogs of spring have descended along with the first tropical storm of the season. The planes sometimes flew, and the boats sometimes sailed, but the island felt itself cut off again from the mainland. We like it that way. The traffic, the malls, the fast-food-everything […]
