Gateways To Science

My writing and photography has garnered a fair dose of newspaper column inches, a few magazine and website articles and, well, more than 3000 of my own blog posts, but not much by way of good, old-fashion, hard-cover books. In 2004, my pal Ron Lieber hooked me up with some expat pals of his, Mike…

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The Delicate Art Of Doing Nothing At All

I’m sure there are many things to do on Nantucket Island. There are galleries, shops and restaurants on the wharf. There’s a Nantucket Whaling Museum, Lifesaving Museum, Atheneum, Observatory and Aquarium. The place is rife with historical destinations: Brant Point Lighthouse, Henry Coffin House, and the First Congregational Church (to name just a few). To…

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On Two Eternities

Time is a funny thing. This afternoon, Abbi and pointed the rental car east on Madaket Road towards town for all our favorite Nantucket things (Cape Cod Salt & Vinegar Chips, Whale’s Tale Pale Ale, Bartlett Farm’s Blueberry Pie). Nearing our turn near the old cemetery on on Milk Road, I said to her, “I…

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The Miracle Of Showing Up

We rarely do much of anything in Nantucket, and I like it that way. A typical day might involve a good run, a real breakfast (eggs, pancakes, etc), a trip to the beach, magazines, books, puzzles, and the ever-essential mid-day nap. We rarely leave our little corner of the island save for trip to Cisco…

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Lightning In A Bottle

If life is a collection of moments, all strung together and played back in contrast and context to one another, then the defining moment from last summer’s trip to Nantucket was that of a lone cottage against a wide, evening sky. The photo was taken from a narrow, wooden bridge on the western edge of…

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ACK ’08

Over the years, I’ve invested a lot in the restorative powers of Nantucket. For me, for better or worse, true or false, the island has provided significant counterpoint to this island. Still, the place was something of an acquired taste. I first visited Nantucket just a few months after moving to Manhattan. I was living…

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Given To Fly

There are three major flight paths outside my window: Newark, LaGuardia, and JFK. With the frequent buzz of tourist helicopters and Hudson River air traffic, the skies above me are constantly crowded with jet engines, propellers, and blinking red lights. It’s an apt metaphor for New York City, really. Or, for that matter, my brain.…

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