Tag: barsanti

Nantucket Essays

My Mother Carried Napkins

• by Robert P. Barsanti • I have just been invited to a fiftieth anniversary party for the Jordans.  The invitation arrived in a huge cream envelope with my name and address in script across the front.  It also arrived with a bachelorette party of bills from the car company, […]

Robert Barsanti Essay
Nantucket Essays

House

• by Robert P. Barsanti • Things are getting ready to happen out of sight. The world is sodden in April: the snow melts, the rain drips, the fog beads along the wires.  Blind white roots push out and break the frozen ground.  The daffodils have pushed through the dead […]

Nantucket January
Nantucket Essays

Living the Dream

•   by Robert P. Barsanti   •   They were out there on New Year’s Day.  Four white boats lined up near the eastern jetty, pulling scallops out of the water.  Two men worked in each boat.  They aimed the nose of the boat into the incoming tide and worked the winches.  […]

Nantucket Essays

The October Sun

by Robert P. Barsanti Many years ago, I put on waders, floated the basket, and walked out into the October water to rake up a few scallops. At the time, picking up scallops was not just a pastime, but the duty of an islander. We walked out into the cool […]

Nantucket Essays

In the Divine Light of September

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 […]

Nantucket Essays

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 […]

Nantucket Essays

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 […]