We buried my dear friend Bob Eisendrath last weekend and on Monday I woke up feeling more peaceful than I had in months.

As I prepare to leave this drenching summer in West Tisbury for autumn in scorching northern California, I am haunted by last September.

“Is there anything you’re excited about today?” the little boy asked me, as we were drying ourselves off.

Even my dreams have gone down the drain.

Last Friday, pressed for time, I took the evening Cape Air flight to Boston, having enjoyed a few days alone after settling my daughters at their colleges on opposite coasts. Summer was over and I was of course sad to be leaving the Vineyard and already missing the people I didn’t have time to see and things I didn’t have time to do, feeling a bit beleaguered by all the “letting go” thrust upon me in one week. The airport was so still and quiet I thought I had the time wrong, but the attendant said there were only two passengers.