Day returned — again. Day is my daughter’s security blanket, a small square of blue felt with a satin border she likes to move her fingers along like...
For the first time in my life, I am unemployed during the Martha’s Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby.
When circumstances seem at sixes and sevens, one can sink one’s hands in a dog’s coat of fur or a cat’s muscularity and feel grounded.
The first boat I worked on was a fishing vessel out of Provincetown on the tip of Cape Cod called the Jimmy Boy.
Vineyard Haven, where I live, isn’t one of those places that looks extremely vulnerable to the wrath of a giant storm or the open sea.
Every summer gets a little harder when you reach your nineties.
It was Tuesday, and we found ourselves in Tulsk, in a pub, a steaming bowl of potato leek soup and brown bread in front of me; my daughter Jill had a...
From the north, wind clears the laze of summer, seaweed collects on the windward shore and squishes cold under bare feet.

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