There’s a reason that at this time of year many of us experience a breakdown of sorts. It can be anything from a momentary cri de coeur to a lingering sadness to a snap decision to, well, do something other than be here. The thing is, we long-timers occasionally feel stranded on the Island and we ask ourselves if it’s absolutely necessary to stay. Why, sure, this place is gorgeous, unspoiled, scenic and architecturally handsome every way you turn, but we wonder, as we’ve done in the distant past with some of our worst romantic choices: Are looks everything?

It has finally happened. The old-fashioned bridge over the Mill River Ford in North Tisbury is no longer an old-fashioned bridge. Until three weeks ago, it was as close in character as the Island ever has had to a covered bridge. It’s not covered of course, but through the years it has retained wooden railings to keep cars crossing from falling into the brook below.

For centuries, probably millennia, the small, oily fish known as Atlantic menhaden have been the protein-filled food of choice for striped bass and many other large species in our waters. Fishermen call them pogeys or bunker, often using them as bait to entice stripers to their lines. Menhaden were once so abundant that early Americans spoke of them swimming in schools upwards of 25 miles long.

When I can’t sleep I take long, late-night walks, mostly in the winter when I’ve got the place to myself. On quiet nights I usually head down Broadway past all the unlighted sleeping houses of people I know now and those I used to know, to the pier where the boats are sleeping, too. I stand perfectly still, listening to the sound of the faint gentle kiss of piling and rail, the strain of the stretching line, the barely audible lullaby of breeze through rigging.

Applications for Red Stocking, the Vineyard’s own effort to provide food and clothing for Island children from birth through grade eight, will be available by Oct. 26. Last year Red Stocking provided for over 419 children in need of neighborly assistance.

The long arc of our history paused for just a few seconds this week at the Vineyard Gazette office, when after months of internal planning, a new website was launched.