Wasn't That a Mighty Storm

A cursory glance at the aftermath of Sunday's storm which amounted mostly to lots of wind, rain, sleet, and slush, along with some power outages, including, as usual, the "Katama Line" (crosses Main Street at Pease's Point Way and runs between Plantingfield and Katama). I was unaffected on Main Street, but I had my hurricane lanterns on stand-by, just in case. The wind is still howling today, Monday, and is starting to push the clouds on out of here. I saw some bright sky this afternoon in the northwest, including a few blue patches - the sun was even out for a while - so by tomorrow we'll probably be clear. I know Boston and NYC got hit hard with a ton of snow, which made for some interesting holiday weekend traveling. Luckily I had no place to go these two days, so I made the best of a couple of cozy days at home.

Merry Christmas from Edgartown News

Yes, merry Christmas, whatever the words mean to you, from the most religious interpretation all the way to its simply being a greeting of kindness and good cheer, an opportunity to get outside of our own concerns  for a brief moment.  God knows, we can all use all the kindness and human connections we can give, and make, and get these days, don't you think - more than ever, it seems to me - and I do believe that whatever one's religion or faith tradition happens to be, warmth and kindness and human connections are at the heart of the true meaning of Christmas. So yes, may we all have the happiest and merriest of Christmases, and everything good for the New Year.


My favorite Christmas decoration - anywhere, and for all time - is the Star of Bethlehem that shines over Edgartown every year above the town clock. Its simplicity, and the fact that it sits above the town as a beacon, and that it is always there - since before I was born, even - begin my list of reasons why.

Ode to Snow

More often than not, I check the weather report for Edgartown prior to my departing Brookline on Monday mornings to get an idea of how to dress and what clothes to pack, but this past Monday I did not. Skies were gray in the city, so I at least thought of tossing my snow boots into my bag, just in case, and lucky for me I did, because by Duxbury - to my surprise and partial delight (I say partial because though I do love snow, I had not given myself any leeway, time-wise, for bad-weather driving) - there was already a coating of snow on the ground and it was coming down hard.

Anyway, here is a short verse, penned by my dear mother a few years back, a ditty I often quote - in elevators, in the check-out line at Trader Joe's, on the street corner - when people say they hate snow (followed by a few photos from Tuesday).

Sign of Age         by Alison Boylston Piazza

If you don't feel a thrill at the news that it's snowing,

Don't look now - your years are showing.

Slow News Week

All was quiet on the front earlier this week when I had a chance to scout around a bit. The conch season is winding down, scalloping is piddling along with reports of plentiful seed stock but not too many keepers. There were a number of construction and repair projects going on around town, including the drilling beneath the harbor that continues; closing the hole and preparing for new construction at #8 Pent Lane; utility line repairs on Morse Street; and dredging the channel that runs between Big Bridge and Little Bridge in Sengekontacket with its companion project, the ongoing renovation and bolstering of the beach at Cow Bay.






Conch pots, retired for the season, Fishermen's Pier.








Dougie Benefit calls it a wrap for conch fishing, for this year anyway.







Local color.







Memorial Wharf








#8 Pent Lane, awaiting the next phase.








As a frequent walker to the post office, I have often thought that it would make sense to install a pedestrian walk-way nestled safely between the fronts of the cars and the bank building (above). As it is, once you've headed into the parking lot from the sidewalk on Vineyard Haven Road, you're forced to walk in the roadway, directly behind the frequently-backing-out cars. All that would be required would be to move the parking spaces back toward the parking lot a few feet and create a little sidewalk. This makes infinite sense to me. Stay tuned.







Bend in the Road







It appears that Mother Nature is taking care of that pesky rock problem at our beach. The sand on the left is the original (smooth) Bend in the Road sand; the sand on the right is the pebble-filled detritus that was dumped here last year. Seeing this makes me wonder, what is the point of dumping all this sand here - truck-load after truck-load - if it's only going to wash away anyway (maybe you've been following the story of Plum Island's losing battle in the news).? Oh well, thank God for small favors I guess, because that stony soil ruined the beach, in the opinion of many beach-goers.







The end of the public beach, where Cow Bay begins.
















This sand is smooth and soft and obviously has been graded (now, does this make sense, to put properly graded sand on a private beach that no-one uses and dump a pile of stones on our much-loved and highly utilized public beach?) I was told that this sand actually comes from New Bedford - foreign soil - shipped over on Packer's barge.







The dredging operation at Big Bridge, with our own Donnie Benefit at the helm.







This is the "wet pit," where the spoils from Sengekontacket are initially deposited. The backhoe scoops out the wet sand - under the watchful eyes of the seagulls lined up on the banks, waiting for clams and other goodies to spew from the pipe - and creates nearby piles; the water drains out and the now-manageable sand is loaded into trucks, for transport either to Cow Bay or to the Pay Beach in Oak Bluffs. This project's main purpose, according to field coordinator, Mark DeFeo, is to open up the channel that runs parallel to the road between both of the bridges so as to increase the circulation, and thereby the health, of Segekontacket Pond. The beach projects are secondary to this purpose.