It appeared out of nowhere on a calm, clear morning last July — the largest seagull I have ever seen, with a black back and a bright orange beak — sitting motionless on the verdant front lawn of our rental overlooking Stonewall Beach.

On and off, for almost 50 years, my family and I have been returning to the Island for at least one month every summer. My first rental in 1962 — a ramshackle old sea captain’s cottage — is still there, isolated and sea-swept, not far from the Gay Head Light. I was 30 years old and recently divorced against my husband’s wishes; I had come to the Island with my four young children, little steps ages seven to three for a summer of healing. There have been many other rentals since then.