When the sun shines cold and bright and the wind blows hard out of the northwest the water between the chops turns a deep green jade, topped by foaming whitecaps. Intrepid sea ducks surf the waves like so many boys of summer. Above the soft brown of the Island shoreline, a light blue sky rests like a theatrical backdrop.

And Islanders pile on sweaters and scarves and fleece jackets, binoculars in hands, to view a line of birds perched on the golden weathervane atop the Federated Church in Edgartown. A squirrel scampers over a Vineyard Haven lawn, clutching one more nut for burial. The steely gray of winter stands waiting in the wings while the late autumn sun races through bare limbs, casting the Island in stark, chilled light.