I just got back

 from my week’s "vacation" on that island suspiciously similar to Bayberry Island, otherwise known as Cuttyhunk .  

So much crammed into five days on the island and two days of travel.  Time spent with older relatives and newer ones.  The newer relatives tended to have less hair and wear less clothing.  

Here is Will doing a brilliant imitation of his uncle Matthew at a similar age, and his great grandpa Jay in his later years. 

Notice the complete lack of butt and the chicken legs.  This seems to be a trait which has been passed down generations even when there was no genetic link.  

This also holds true for Will’s twin

sister Kenley, who has somehow managed to capture my mother’s dramatic genes out of thin air.

This was a week of family, on and off the island.  And it was a week of juxtaposition - of past, present, and future.

I began to write when I first lived on Cuttyhunk.  And here I am over thirty years later, and I’m doing a book signing as a fundraiser for the same Cuttyhunk library that saved my life those first quiet and lonely springs on the island.

My character Jessie  Silva and I both read our way through that library.

On this last trip I was witness to the Fourth of July golf cart parade, held this year on the fifth due to hurricane Arthur, who graced us with his presence on the fourth.  

I was around for the first Fourth of July golf cart parade.

And leaving the island after my whirlwind trip, those of us on the ferry were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of the Charles Morgan, last of the wooden whaleboats, restored and docked temporarily in New Bedford harbor.

I had no idea where this blog was going when I began it; but where it has gone is full circle.  From my father’s skinny legs

to my toddler grand nephew’s chicken thighs, seeing  my mother’s dramatic flair mirrored in my grand niece’s face. 

Three decades of a Fourth of July parade, watched this year from the lawn of the library that saved my sanity so many lonely winters and springs, that same library where I was setting up for a book signing of my own book, a book about a girl who lives on an island.  The island so suspiciously similar to Cuttyhunk, with an old-fashioned library almost exactly like the one whose lawn I sat on for the signing.

Whaleboats,

parades,

generations.

This is the second book I’ve written about this island, and there will be more.  It’s an island rich in history and full of potential for the future.  It is generations of drama, of continuity and of change. 

Leaving Cuttyhunk this past week I realize I may have had to add physical land mass to Bayberry in order to fit all my character Jessie’s adventures in, but even at its original size,

it’s an island far too full of life to fit into just one book.