Island Light: Winter Wind
We reserve the right for a better day to gather round the fire pit.
Wind roars around the lifeguard building at South Beach.
Chappy Ferry plies the waters of Edgartown harbor.
An umbrella ready for two on a North Water street stroll.
Tide waters fill Oak Bluffs harbor.
Cross your fingers while traversing through Five Corners.
Sandbags piled up to stop the rising water at Stop & Shop in Vineyard Haven.
Something old at Mermaid Farm.
Deserted Edgartown.
Scallop shells pile up on State Beach.
All the rain this month has greened up the moss at Sheriff's Meadow Sanctuary.
Edgartown Lighthouse.
Highland Wharf remnants remain at East Chop Beach Club.
Sunday's snow remains on a West Tisbury barn roof.
Misty Meadows.
Bang's shuck shack weathers the snow on Lagoon Pond.
Corbin-Norton house on Ocean Park.
Entering downtown Oak Bluffs.
Ferry Island Home in her Vineyard Haven slip.
West Chop Lighthouse.
The wind blows around Island houses these days, rattling old panes and knocking at front doors as if it, too, would like to come inside and get warm by the wood stove.
Unlike the wet, rainy winds in spring, the soft winds of summer or the rustly, quickening breezes of fall, the winter wind is a sound all its own. William Shakespeare wrote: “Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.”
There are eight principal directions for the wind to blow, but mariners divide the distances between these directions into four others, making thirty-two points, also called rhumbs. Thirty-two rhumbs on a circle, in the form of a star, is known as the mariner’s card.
No matter. The howl and rattle of the winter wind is a sound that says a pot of hot tea with a delicious book and a warm wool throw snugged around the legs on the couch.
It’s a good and comfy sound.
