There are some things you don’t realize you’ve stopped seeing until you see them again. For me, this summer, it was lightning bugs.
Tag: Nantucket Essays
The Real Brilliance of Summer
There is no place quite like Nantucket in the summer.
Every June, the island seems to wake from a long sleep. Window boxes overflow, hydrangeas begin their slow explosion into blue, the harbor fills with sails, restaurants spill onto sidewalks, music drifts through open doors, and every sunset somehow convinces us that we’ve never seen one quite like it before. The island becomes brilliant. Not simply beautiful, but brilliant. It shines with an energy that’s difficult to explain to someone who has never been here. It is easy to understand why people spend all year dreaming about these few short months.
Privilege Wears Waders
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ The tide was draining out of Madaket Harbor in the early afternoon under the incandescent winter sun. Safe in waders, six of us stood in the cold water that lapped around our waists. Aware of the present danger and recent past, we watched each […]
The Judge
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ As you get older, your life becomes a lab experiment for doctors and nurses and a math problem for bureaucrats and insurance executives. I go off-island, from time to time, to confer with the young people who pick at me like a frog transfixed […]
The Hope Chest
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ Nantucket scars us. We are stewards to an island in the sea of time. The cobblestones remain as they always have, as do the moors and the gray buildings. The years seem to slide by us. History happens on the other side ot the […]
Mondays in September
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ By September, Monday leans back, gives himself a scratch, and looks around the backyard for a few minutes. It has all the time it needs. Nothing presses it. The phone doesn’t ring, the e-mail only contains spam, and the coffee is ready by the […]
Storing Life
~by Robert P. Barsanti ~ You know who you are in a storage locker. When you open the padlock and the shutter goes up, all is laid out in front of you at the cost of $125 a month. Every one that I never became is stacked and stored in […]
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