It was fitting. Under a solid heavy sky that touched the trees, Rain poured down. Cleansing, as a bath after a long week’s labor.

The Island and the heath hens are lucky to have the attention of Mr. Brand and Ms. Phelan, pioneers at the frontier of cultural re-imagination, who have access to the scientific resources to work with you on this cutting edge proposition.

Akaogi farm in Vermont grows a variety of fruits and vegetables, but the thing that brought me there this past week was their most unusual New England crop: rice.

On a recent summer Sunday, as hundreds of motorists hurtled down Route 93 toward Route 28 and the ferry dock in Woods Hole, two dozen Vineyarders hurtled in the opposite direction.

I came to the Vineyard as a six year old whose idea of bliss was reading Archie comics and baseball box scores.