I am being driven around the Island by my son Hardy, from Oak Bluffs to Edgartown, across to Vineyard Haven, then up through West Tisbury, Chilmark and Aquinnah.

We are gathered on the porch, exchanging presents, sharing some champagne and crackers too.

For many years, instead of eating Thanksgiving dinner I called up the local health club and asked if I could use their sauna.

I liked to read a lot as a child, my specialty being books about animals, who of course died on the way to a tear-filled ending.

“Dad, tell me about the old days, when life was normal and we could go out and do things, like play with friends and drive off-Island for adventures.”

This past week Camp Jabberwocky announced it was canceling its summer season due to the coronavirus pandemic.

As I say goodnight to my 12-year-
old daughter Pickle, I ask her if she would like to walk, bike or drive to school the next day.

My daughter Pickle and I are walking the dog yet again, traveling the dirt road loop that stretches around our neighborhood.

I live on an Island filled with wooded trails but for years rarely visited them. My children do not like to ruminate while pondering the burnt orange leaves of fall.

I am rummaging around in my past in Tallahassee, Fla., here for a memorial service for Ned Stuckey-French, a former professor and friend who died too young.