It’s the last Friday in July. At the edge of Katama Bay just west of Wasque Point, a tiny plover chick skitters nimbly across a patch of sand flecked with shells and seaweed. Nearby, a parent bird keeps a watchful eye as the chick forages for food.
In his debut memoir Because Our Father Lied, Craig McNamara has a lot of questions for his father, the late statesman and secretary of defense, Robert McNamara.
In his latest book Undelivered: The Never-Heard Speeches that Would Have Rewritten History, Jeffrey Nussbaum cites Election Night of 2000 as the beginning of his fascination with the undelivered speeches of history.
There is no purer pleasure for anglers on Martha’s Vineyard than the tug on the line of the first striped bass of the season. The fish needn’t be large, and likely isn’t. But that first hit in early May or June renews a seasonal relationship that is as old as the Island itself.