Another Island Year

It is that time when we pause to look back and reflect on the year that was. Well, those of us who buy into the conventional idea that a new year is coming on January 1 do this, anyway.

The Island’s years tend to have a regular routine, and this year mainly followed that routine: the tide came in and went out, usually a couple of times a day. Some trees fell over. Some hillsides slid. Some days we saw the mountain, some days we didn’t. Some days the sun came out and we remembered that this is the loveliest place on earth. Just our opinion.

In late winter when the branches were still bare the crocuses came up and they were followed by the daffodils, which were followed by the tulips. By that time we were thinking, hey hey! Summer is around the corner, but this last summer the corner was a full month farther away than usual, though summer did give way to autumn on time.

Great, NOW you’re on time. Stupid seasons. We could be excused for thinking we got cheated out of a proper summer this year, but that’s all weather over the dam now.

Commuters kept going to work, day in, day out, hauling their tired rears out of bed to catch that bus and that ferry, leaving their island families for their commuter and work families. At this time of the year when the sun goes down a little after four and comes up, oh, I don’t know, sometime in early afternoon, they go to work and come home in darkness, not seeing their families or homes in daylight except on their days off. You have to admire that dedication and persistence. Talk about acting out your love for other people. They kept doing it, and dreaming about the day they could live and work on the island.

Meanwhile the ones who live and work here kept up their routines: moms took care of children, children went to school, business owners hoped to end this quarter in the black, retired people traveled, or met with their friends over tea and coffee. House cleaners cleaned the homes of commuters, who don’t have time.

Artists, writers and musicians went to their dead-end jobs that support their creative habits, and occasionally got some of what they consider their real work done and knew once more that creative work is work, and doing it feels better than sex, which may be why non-artists hate them so.

Children and some adults played sports. Serious concerned people attended meetings, got excited, and yelled at each other. Some relationships came together, some legal and some illicit, and some relationships fell apart, ditto. Babies were conceived and some were born; people died. New people with sky-high dreams of an idyllic island life moved onto the island, and disillusioned people moved off, muttering about ferry service, septic tanks, and other emotional lesions caused by this "damn island."

Another class of bright young people graduated from high school and most of them got off the rock as fast as they could, while a few stayed here for the long haul. It’s not a bad place to get stuck and live your life, if you know who you are and what you want. If you don’t know those things, you’ll probably not be content anywhere.

Another Island year slips into history. Here at our house we had a nice, quiet, boring year, with no crises and no excitement. We like it that way. Trouble is exciting, and we’ve had enough excitement to last for a while.

I wish you all blessings and peace and grace, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and not too much excitement. I wish your family safe, your friends true, and a summer that arrives on time. Here comes 2012, ready or not.