An osprey stands on a pole by the water near East Chop. It is mid-February but warm and the osprey is comfortable, it seems, being early to the seasonal party.

But the nest is gone, blown away by winter winds, and the bird looks perplexed up there, standing alone with nowhere to roost. Beneath him, on the road, people walk in short sleeves, their winter coats and boots gathering dust at home during the Vineyard winter that wasn’t — except for a few minor cold snaps.

Snow drops have emerged, crocuses have bloomed, songbirds have chirped, warm rains have fallen — the calendar may say February but nature tells a different story, one that usually takes place in late March or April.

But in the human realm, one ruled by fixed schedules and dates, a right of winter passage is taking place this coming week: the annual emptying of the Island for school break. Today, Island schools shut their doors for a week and many head south or north or east or west to relax and refresh. In most communities, a school break would not affect the entire ecosystem of a society.

But the Vineyard is not most communities.

In the already quiet of winter, this week is silence to the fifth power. For those who remain this is not such a bad thing. Most meetings go unscheduled, the hard decision of where to go out to eat is almost nonexistent, parking is effortless anywhere and so is walking down the middle of the street if so desired.

The beaches unfold even more anonymously, with only the wind, waves and perhaps that solitary osprey as company while walking on the sand or taking a meditative timeout. For that matter, there is no need to travel to Aquinnah to disrobe; a nude beach can be anywhere you are when there is no one to complain.

Or stay clothed and ride a bus to nowhere, circling the Island on the VTA, or rather most of the Island as winter routes don’t travel to the outer reaches.

A weather vane turning slowly and creakily on a foggy morning provides a perfectly creepy soundtrack to a early stroll.

But while walking or sitting or staring at the stars, don’t forget to send a small salute out to those who do stay open throughout the winter, some 365 days a year. Business may be slow, the books slightly off kilter, but the doors still swing wide no matter how quiet the streets.

And fear not, daylight saving time begins in two weeks.