by Robert P. Barsanti This is a weird year. Not only do Washington, London, and Hong Kong seem out of kilter, so does the school calendar. This year, unlike last year, school will begin after Labor Day. In my beautiful and eternal childhood, the school year always began on the […]

by Robert P. Barsanti September is here and the fields are calling. Football fields, soccer fields, field hockey fields—if you can still find them. The exodus has swollen in earnest. Yukons and Suburbans and Defenders, laden with the surfboards and beach chairs, are rolling onto the boat and heading back […]

by Robert P. Barsanti We were all out of the water, while the sharks swam with the jellyfish. They could have been swimming with killer whales and mermaids, the fog was so thick you could only see one wave out to sea. On the other hand, the air remained warm […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Even at 6 pm you can find sandals at the beach. They remain paired and herded at the base of a dune, or underneath the Rosa Rugosa, or at the foot of the stairs. All the brands are represented, from Nike to J.J. Newberry’s to L.L.Bean […]

by Robert P. Barsanti I have become blind to phones. I understand that we live in a time when people can enter their own digital bubble, mentally recline on the electric curve, and watch the fun swirls—I know the attraction of Words with Friends. But, on a Saturday afternoon in […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Not surprisingly, I was stuck in traffic on Quaker Road. A sprinkler had been left on out in Madaket, and I was making my way out there in the late evening. My boon companion and I had had a hot day, but we were without air-conditioning […]

by Robert P. Barsanti The grandson’s plane left at three. They had waited with the young man at the airport, whiling away a couple more hours as the airline people shrugged and smiled. The air conditioners were buzzing away, and neither of them had been inside the terminal in ten […]

by Robert P. Barsanti The carnival used to come here. Sometime in the middle of July, the rides would come over on the freight boat in the middle of the night, assemble at the Steamship Wharf, and then parade out to the field in Tom Nevers. It was not quite […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Two days ago, we cancelled a beach party. We had one of those days that only happens on Nantucket or in Maine. In the center of the island, or in town, or anywhere more than one hundred yards from the beach, the air hung and dripped. […]