by Robert P. Barsanti The radio rolled out with attacks in Libya, a new iPhone in California, and a memorial service at the World Trade Centers before it muttered out the “Beach and Boating Forecast” and the tides for the day. Then I shut it off. Instead of the radio […]
Tag: barsanti
Changeover
by Robert P. Barsanti The last beach day came on Saturday. Hurricane Leslie was threatening Bermuda in tiny steps. Her winds had stirred the waves off of Cisco and the cold front that would keep her away was spinning off tornados in Brooklyn. Throughout most of New England, rain and […]
Married to the Isle
by Robert P. Barsanti I first came to Nantucket in the fall. I had been before. Once, when I was twelve and wearing a Campagnolo bicycle hat and a red windbreaker, I came over on the Uncatena from Oak Bluffs and saw the island briefly. Later, when I interviewed, I […]
Fruit of Summer
by Robert P. Barsanti By the last weeks of August, summer is preparing the grand finale for the season at the same time that most of the visitors are washing the mildew out of the towels, emptying out the refrigerator, and making sure the kids are doing the summer reading. […]
A Sandbar in a Riptide
by Robert P. Barsanti The ocean is easy in Maine. Off of Southport Island, it slips all the way out at low tide, leaving mud and seagulls, then it slowly walks itself back in. At low tide, you smell the salt, the rot, and the weeds. Then, the water lifts […]
Sing the Body Electric
by Robert P. Barsanti In August, the kids start to leave. Over the country, schools have broken through the Labor Day wall and call the young back for practice, or for team building, or even classes. The calendar sneaks up with a suitcase and a boat ticket. The last week […]
Useful Boredom
by Robert P. Barsanti My son didn’t get out of the water today. We arrived at the beach around two o’clock in the afternoon. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his towel, and walked down to a rolling surf. The waves were still building and racing off of a freak […]
Comfort in Crowds
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, […]
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 […]
