An edited selection of Gazette nature writings from the year.

Dear February

One does not have to drive to Aquinnah before dawn to prove how quiet the Island is in late February. But it does make for a good excuse. A drive in the deep dark from down-Island to the Vineyard’s most western shore registers a proportion of 7-1 animals to cars on the road. The stretch of Moshup Trail widens the gap to 8-0; a family of skunks, two rabbits, a lone deer, some birds, but no humans to interrupt the flow. Up ahead, Gay Head Light pulses its red-white-red-white welcome mat like some space age tractor beam for those traveling the roads rather than waterways.

False Forsythia

Many often mistake it for forsythia in bloom.

But the graceful yellow blooms seen in dooryards and near roadsides around the Vineyard these days are in fact witch hazel — a native shrub with a flowering schedule that is opposite most other deciduous trees around New England.

Witch hazel blooms from late fall into late winter, just around the time the rest of the landscape begins its months-long cycle of bare branches and brown earth.

At this time of year witch hazel stands out for its beautiful yellow-green color, and slightly spicy fragrance.

Next up: True forsythia in bloom.

Poetry of April

The daffodils have been brilliant this year, from the earliest tiny jonquils to the sturdy yellow standard types that bloom in great profusion along Island roadsides. Lambert’s Cove Road, North Road and the entrance to the Polly Hill Arboretum are all a must for drive-bys these days. Preserved by cool, rainy weather, the daffys cheer us as we pass and are a reminder to slow down and soak up spring.

Ready to Launch

If there is such a thing as a sweet spot on Martha’s Vineyard through the seasons, it must be June. Especially this June, this year, after a cold, rainy spring that lingered well past its sell date.

The air has lost its edge and is softer now, threaded with fog that floats above meadows dotted with wildflowers in the early mornings and at dusk.

Soon there will be heat, humidity and fireflies after dark, blinking their tiny lights. But there is still plenty of June left to savor.

On the Cusp of the Fourth

In a large field in West Tisbury a farmer mows hay. The stalks are waist high, deeply green and waving in the morning breeze.

On Saturday, the newly mown stalks dry in the sun. Birds enjoy a cocktail party of seeds, as do mice, rabbits and other creatures.

On Sunday, the farmer and his tractor are back, arranging the hay in long thick rows. On Monday, the hay is collected in large round bales. A young child runs through the field, his arms wide, roaming from one bale to another.

Ready or not, summer 2019 has officially arrived.

Butterfly Days

The monarchs are back and appear to be even more plentiful this year on the Island, perhaps encouraged by the milkweed that is flourishing in old farm fields and forgotten roadside corners up-Island and down.

The sight of the graceful butterflies flitting and swooping about is uplifting as summer begins its slow but inevitable turn toward the shortening days of autumn.

Soon the monarchs will begin their fall migration to southern climes. North American monarchs are the only butterflies that make such a massive journey — up to 3,000 miles.

September Shift

The Vineyard has been treated to a second summer this month, with warm, clear days stretching on as if they might have no end, inviting long beach walks and swims. The pace of life is unhurried now, and Islanders can stop a minute to catch their breath and also catch up with friends and neighbors — in coffee shops, on soccer fields and on the waterfront where derby fishermen dot the shoreline in their trademark waders and tall boots. There is a settling in to new routines. We turn our faces to the sun, as if to soak up every last bit before the season turns another corner.

Thanksgiving 2019

Another storm blew through Martha’s Vineyard last weekend, with cold rain and wind that drove even the hardiest Islanders indoors for hearth fires, soup making and steaming mugs of tea.

Migratory birds have mostly flown south by now, but this is nesting season for humans.

When the sun shines high overhead, we are up early and outdoors doing things: fishing, hunting, gardening, biking, taking long walks with friends on beaches and woodland trails. When the days are at their shortest, morningtime turns to evening in the blink of an eye

And so we nest.