It took a baffled outsider, my then new (now ex) husband, to open the family’s eyes to what we’d forever ignored: the rusted window locks, the soft spot on the porch deck, the pancake turner with the handle broken off, and so on.

Shelley Christiansen


It was raining hard, with not a hint of a breeze. The air was hot and heavy, feeling tropical and clammy as it settled on my skin.

Lorraine St. Pierre


I grew up in an old carriage house in an historic part of Marshfield. I remember as a child thinking back to what it must have been like with carriages in the rooms – like a car dealership with vehicles indoors.

Nicki Miller


For pure pulse-racing, adrenaline-surging angling mayhem, the narrow channel known as The Gut has no equal when false albacore or “Little Tunny” invade in late summer and early autumn.

Kib Bramhall


Can I just say right here and now that I am going to miss President Obama and his brand of low-key but relentless sanity.

Paul Schneider


Some call Oak Bluffs elite. The Colemans of Coleman Corners call it home.

Jocelyn Coleman Walton


Grandpa’s chowder was Rhode Island style – a clear, water-based broth loaded with onions, celery, potatoes, cracked pepper, just-harvested clams, and, to my mother’s chagrin, extra salt.

Alison Case


An August evening fills with light...