While eyeing the cold winter water from several stories up on an Island ferry, my thoughts wandered as I looked out on the frigid expanse of the Sound.

I have spent most of my adult life rehabbing. Not from drugs or alcohol, but from participating in sports.

Hitchhiking was once a preferred mode of transportation on Martha’s Vineyard.

Writing for a newspaper — having your words and name appear in print — provides a special kind of thrill not easily matched.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved to dance — singing, too, but a little off-key.

Long before Cedar Tree Neck became the magnificent conservation area that it is today, it was a tucked-away refuge for summer visitors.

The past 21 months have brought the kind of unwelcome news that shows one the universe has been knocked out of kilter.

My last family vacation to the Vineyard with my parents before I moved out on my own was complicated by the need to make a difficult decision.

A few weeks ago I attended the French Open in Paris.

The room where I write is actually my office. I love my office.