Commentary
There’s no food on the streets of Vineyard Haven. At least not for long. And that includes anything that might resemble food. For each morning on my walk, at the end of the leather leash in my hand is a golden street sweeper. His name is Floyd. For more than 10 years, just about his entire life, he has lived with my wife, Paula, and me.
“Carry In, Carry Out” read the colorful crayon signs displayed on bulletin boards at many Island beaches, but as beach clean-up volunteers discovered last weekend, not everyone obeys the call to action by elementary school environmentalists.
On April 10, I voted to uphold the West Tisbury bylaw prohibiting dogs at Lambert’s Cove Beach from June 15 to Sept. 15 of each year. This bylaw was approved by the Massachusetts Attorney General on Dec. 29, 2011. The result was that dog owners would be able to walk their dogs on Lambert’s Cove Beach for three quarters of the calendar year.
Recently during a meeting with high school seniors to talk about the civil rights movement, I learned their graduation was on May 17.
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “How wonderful to be graduating on such a historic day.” Seated at a round table in front of me, all of the students looked at me quizzically.
“You do know the significance of May 17?” I asked, only to be met with the same uncomprehending looks.
Once again, we wish to extend our heartfelt thanks to all those who have participated in the Martha’s Vineyard pollinator project by helping to inventory the Island’s native bees. We are indebted especially to the volunteers who helped sample bees and generate important data—including the first recorded occurrences of over 150 species from the Vineyard.
I grew up in a very small town in Connecticut. There was one babysitter, Mrs. Shepard, an older woman who lived on a farm, and many kids in town were in her care. We walked to and from our small school, and after school we fed the horses, ran in the fields and splashed in the stream. I remember catching salamanders under rocks — fascinated by their yellow spots or orange stripes. We watched tadpoles grow in stale water and we learned, the hard way, that when chickens peck, they mean business.