It’s been 16 years since her first ferry ride to the Island. Luciana Freire wipes a sink and remembers it all as clearly as if it was yesterday. “I flew from Sao Paolo, Brazil to New York. A friend of my husband’s, a guy I’ve never met before, picks me up and drives me to Woods Hole. I see the boat. I can’t believe my eyes. It’s huge. So white. I’ve never seen a boat like this. Then I’m standing on the deck, wind in my hair, looking at this beautiful Island in the distance and I feel like I am Rose in the movie Titanic.

Eli Dagostino stands out. But it’s not the shock of well-groomed bright red hair. And it’s not the ankle-skimming plum-colored chinos, cream-colored waffle tee and elegantly-tied brown chukka shoes.

It’s his energy.

The silver linen trousers aren’t right. Stina Sayre walks around her sales assistant Laura Entner, who at this moment is the living mannequin for the offending trousers. Stina, who is impeccably dressed in one of her chocolate brown long shearling vests draped over a navy tissue long-sleeved tee, pinches and pulls the fabric, fretting out loud.

Early Saturday morning and all is quiet at Donaroma’s Nursery. A misty rain has settled on the piles of garlands, wreaths and greenery. No one would know that less than 12 hours earlier, more than 1,500 people were here to celebrate the holiday season with wine, cheese, 3-D glasses, glitter and a treasure hunt. Suddenly, infectious laughter spills out of the large glass greenhouse.

At 4 a.m. on a cold November morning, Circuit avenue is empty. Not a car or a person is in sight. Just a fierce northeasterly wind ripping down the street. All the shops are closed up tight, except for one: Mocha Mott’s, where a dim light glows from its location below street level. Walking down the metal stairs, the vibration of loud music can be felt through your shoes. Inside, Scott Hershowitz, who is dressed in long shorts, a short-sleeved button-down shirt and turquoise high tops, is bopping around as though it is noon in the height of summer.

Her flower studio looks more like a temporary movie or stage set than a place of business. Filled with silver vases, vintage glass bottles, ribbons and buckets of fall blooms — among them stunning red, magenta and saffron-colored dahlias — this is the front office for Krishana Collins, flower farmer. The building is an old farm structure that looks like a miniature house, with aging shingles weathered white trim and casement windows, and one long side wall completely chopped off.