How often have I responded with a well-practiced shameful shrug because of something I said, or something I didn’t say, or because I showed up wearing this instead of that.
Blow me a kiss and as old as I will ever be I will still hear violins. Romance, that thin, sweet glaze that coats memory, mood and imagination remains as light as a giddy notion.
She reaches out with cool, fragile fingers — a thin, velour hand steadying herself with a gentle hold. It hasn’t been such a good month for her health But the old wicker chair on the Oak Bluffs porch is positioned in the sun to warm her and she gingerly negotiates herself into it. Pausing to catch her breath, she will chat about politics (“Gore is going win”), share opinions (“Oprah, please, do you need me to send you some Kleenex?”), and the perspective of many years. Isabel Washington Powell, decked out in smiles, red lipstick and every hair in place, is ready.
“I guess if you’re comfortable with how the game is going to end, then you can play.” Sounds of a baseball game float through the window from the playing field on the other side of the trees. “Personally, and I don’t mean this for others, it’s like — I don’t know, but I tend to believe that this life is it. So I’m not sitting there worrying about judgments and devils and angels. No hell to pay. When it’s over, it’s over.” .
Her voice remains low, a library voice, a bedtime story voice; a soothing, unhurried monotone whether she is talking about her six children, about the car accident she had when she was 17, or about the ghost of the late Elizabeth Vanderhoop, sister of her first husband, William Vanderhoop, who drowned in the cistern when she was four, then returned as a spirit to hover near the house.
The day was all balmy breeze and blue-sky perfect, and Flat Point Farm and Tisbury Great Pond looked like a canvas painted by Ray Ellis. Island native Ryan Begley, son of Kevin and Patty and brother of Keegan, was about to marry longtime seasonal resident Adriana Stimola, daughter of Michael and Rosemary and sister of Aubrey Stimola Ryan. And as natural as wedding rings and heartfelt declarations, the Vineyard spirit infiltrated the ceremony.
Officiate Dr. Bette Kerr (a longtime friend and associate of the Stimolas from New York) welcomed everyone.
Maybe it's the sound: giggling, try-and-catch-me children, laughing adults, backyard party chatter.
Maybe it's the color: pastels and bright hues sprinkled over pathways and porches and suspended in mid-flight like handfuls of confetti.
Maybe it's all the smiles: people on front porch rocking chairs or strolling along walkways; everyone ready to pose for pictures and tell you their names, as if they have been commissioned to talk to strangers.
The first day of school at the Martha's Vineyard Public Charter School feels almost like a block party: people hugging each other; adults carrying vases of flowers and trays of snacks; children buddying up; first-name basis all around. The occasion is balanced between a sense of celebration and nonchalance.
The snow-covered pasture is a soft, white-on-white expanse curving under a cold, gray sky. Outside Pam Goff's old Chilmark barn, five black-faced, wool-plumped ewes mill around on the straw and mud, bleating in urgent, slow-motion coughs to the skinny-legged lambs nuzzling against them.
Even things that first dazzle the imagination with their shine and sparkle need substance to endure - like 135 years of tradition, fellowship and community.
Illumination Night on the Camp Ground in Oak Bluffs, heralded in sing-a-long lyrics and ornamented with close to a thousand glowing paper lanterns that rim the Tabernacle and swing from the roofs and porch fronts, is a demonstration of the contagious spirit of the Camp Ground community.
