Waxing and Waning

Waxing gibbous moon over Edgartown Harbor

Every evening that I manage to get out and about right now is totally cherished. As I walk, taking in the cooled-down air, the gentle, diffused light; families wandering about, sunburned and showered; boats and birds heading homeward, I am completely aware that we are counting down the days. I've never seen such a lightning-fast summer in my life. I have loved this one, especially, and pity the people who pray for Labor Day. Oh, to have just one more month (not that September is so terrible). I guess that's why some people go to Florida, seeking the endless summer. I don't necessarily need it to be endless, just a little longer, please. Or, maybe next year, start appreciating and enjoying it earlier.

Dennis and Smitty

Dennis Arnold and Harold Smith

I met a couple of local fellas down town today (you guessed it, on my way to the hardware store, in search of electrical outlet safety covers this time), a rare and welcome occurrence in August.

Many are wistful for the good old days, I'm hearing lately - for the people, the town, and times gone by.

Three Padres - Sunday August 15

Our own Father Michael Nagle, with the parish's summer priests, Oratorian Paul Pearson, and Jesuit Bentley Anderson, out for an evening stroll, with Fr. Anderson still wearing the satisfied glow of having run in that day's Chilmark Road Race (nice t-shirt, too).

Cuteness

Patrie Grace and grandson. Last shot of the day, light fading fast, one-take. Love the ice-cream moustache.

Capt. Porky

Capt. Porky aboard his White Water

It turned out to be my lucky night. I had a free hour between my afternoon swim and my evening babysitting gig, so I took a walk into town, down to the finger piers, where I found a couple of boats, in after a good day's fishing with catches that included bluefish and sea bass. After greeting the wharfinger, and the fishermen, and taking in the sounds and sights of the busy August harbor, as I turned toward home I heard Porky call out, "Sara, want some bluefish?" Absolutely, I did. That answered part of tonight's dinner question - now, what to do about a lemon (with no time to get to the store)? And a vegetable (ditto)?

Good news - younger son stopped by with a lemon; d-i-l brought a bag of Brussels sprouts (my favorite vegetable) when she dropped off the babe.

I love it when things work out like that - and they often do.

Summer 2010

Anthier's

This has been an amazing summer, a "10" for 2010, I'd say. Many say, "It's too hot." I say, "Too hot for what? It's summer, it's supposed to be hot." I love summer, and I love the heat (I also love winter, and the cold). This is what we wait for all year. Make that two years - remember? - we didn't get a summer last year. My only complaint is, it is all going much too fast. In June we prepare; July lumbers towards August. We tumble over the hump of August 1st, and by now - on the cusp of mid-August - summer is a Nantucket sleigh ride, careening out of control - hang on tight! All the more reason to savor every hot day, every warm breeze, every summer flower, every bird-song, every cricket-chirp, every wind-filled sail in the harbor, every twilight walk through people-filled streets, every summer constellation, every sweet and tangy rose-hip; every bike ride, boat ride, picnic, concert, reunion, and, best of all - every delicious, renewing, end-of-day swim.

Summer streets

Patricia Neal

 One of our town's more celebrated residents, Patricia Neal, died on Sunday at age 84, at home. Miss Neal, star of stage and screen, and well-known for her grace, courage, determination, and dignity, had been dwelling in our midst for the past thirty-one years. I did not know Miss Neal personally - as most of us have learned to do from our many years of bumping elbows with celebrities, I respected her privacy (certainly one of the reasons famous folks choose to live here, I think), but I did have one conversation with her on Main Street last summer that I will always remember fondly. Patricial Neal's presence added much to our town. She will be missed. 

(Vineyard Gazette story here, and an interview with Miss Neal conducted by my daughter-in-law in the May/June 2009 issue of Martha's Vineyard magazine, here.)

This morning, in search of a simple photo with which to illustrate this posting, perhaps a simple shot of a flower poking through a fence, I rode my bike down to Miss Neal's neighborhood - tentatively, not wanting to intrude on a grieving family - and what I found was a truly lovely and poignant tribute to Miss Neal. Buckets of flowers had been placed on the fence posts at the entry-way to her home, and there was gentle classical music wafting from an open window, all obviously arranged carefully and deliberately, a gift for her friends, fans, and passersby; a loving tribute, both to Patricia Neal - to her beauty, her charm, and her graciousness - 

and to the town she had called home. 

Thank you, Patricia Neal.