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“Nantucket is a gift,” she said to me while she hung the latest fashions in her posh Federal Street store window. “I just love everything about this island.”
In honor of the holiday season, I wanted to give Nantucket something back.
But how do you give a present to our island?
Some might pick up a piece or two of trash on their daily runs along the Miacomet beach trails. Others contribute to Nantucket’s dedicated conservation organizations, which maintain nearly half of the island as forever-protected open space. I know one amazing woman who organizes and cooks a monthly community dinner to bring all likes of Nantucket people together over a free gourmet meal to both those in need and those in need of a little socialization.
There are so many great charities out here that make this island better, from the Rotary Club to Nantucket Ice to Big Brothers Big Sisters. Heck, we even have our very own Habitat for Humanity out here.
But for me, it’s all about the words. So here is my present.
A love letter to my one and only.
He’s the still beaches in Madaket and the dense fog that sweeps over Surfside. He rests with you, while you watch the waves crash on Great Point. He dines with you, at the bar, over a bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet at The Galley and a tuna martini at the Pearl.
He can be a total gentleman and make you smile at the bright sunsets over Steps Beach. And he can be a jerk, when he brings the nor’easter to the island and stops all the planes and boats from running, and you have to get to Newport for a wedding.
He helps you clear your head over a long walk to Altar Rock, and he takes your breath away over the pink November skies. He makes you laugh when you realize that you two haven’t been apart in months and you have no concept of the “real world” anymore. And he makes you cry, as you throw that penny off the Grey Lady at Brant Point when another season comes to an end after Stroll.
He’s a beautiful chameleon, covered in daffodils during April, sailboats and smiling children in summer, veils and red pants throughout the fall, light snow dustings in December, and a constant still calm throughout the winter.
He’s Nantucket, and oh! How do I love thee?
I will forever write the ways.
– Finigan’s Findings appear weekly in this space and regularly in The Inquirer and Mirror