It’s amazing what a ride up Island can do for the soul. The airport is in my rearview mirror as the West Tisbury Elysian Fields begin to roll by, and there goes the hostel, a reminder that young and old from all corners of the world have been here to sample our beauty. It is a world that, right now, appears in disarray. Some of our politicians are sending messages that sound dangerous or lack conviction. Our young are exposed to dastardly acts that no child should see or hear. Even adults are apparently becoming desensitized to barbarous deeds that are coming ever closer to home. I take a deep breath, try to make sense of it all, and drive on past Alley’s, on to the majesty of the hills and ancient stone walls of Chilmark.

Aquinnah is in my sights. I head down the lane to the Wampanoag community with its longhouse and Native American homes. I explore dirt roads off the beaten path of the main road. Homes shuttered for the winter, groves of pine trees, summer toys covered in the yards. Sheep grazing at Allen Farm. Heading back, I crave the sound of the sea. And there is Squibnocket and that unique sound, the singing rocks being battered by the surf. I watch the surfers in the cold, windy weather waiting for the next wave. I marvel at the vistas of the sea along the road, now that the trees are bare, and the blue of the sky that goes on forever. Then to Menemsha, where winter has left the village and only the fishing boats and lobster pots are hanging around. Summer is just a memory.

It’s a constant question I ask myself, with basically no answer. Are we living in a field of dreams where the dangerous outside world is not allowed to tread? Are we lucky to be able to feel always safe and protected on an Island, cut off from all kinds of egregious acts? I hope so. Then again, who knows? What we can do is cheer our good fortune to be able to live here. And we can be pretty sure we are out of harm’s way. This Island is different from the mainland. Still, the world is constantly around us — on PCs, iPads, iPhones. It’s inescapable.

Christmas and Hanukkah are being celebrated. Decorations abound. The Red Stocking Fund is available for many folks who are in need of extra support. Folks, really, who are the backbone of this Island. They are the hardworking people who thrive when surrounded by these treasured places, but who have little time to partake on a daily basis.

Those of us lucky enough to be at an age where time affords us perusing and exploring, drinking in the beauty and varied landscapes, hills and valleys, secret places—we know the dangers every day, of suffering people, damaged people out to destroy others. If only we could all understand what’s going on. Impossible, probably. As for escaping, why not? Here we are able to escape, if only for minutes at a time, into what surrounds us.

Sue Lamoreaux lives in Edgartown.