The veil is thin at this time of year. This fall in particular, even as we revel in the spectacular light and the shortening days, there is a deeper awareness of the fragility of life and of the meaning of beauty in the midst of loss.
Here at Wharf Cove, the daily reminders are rich. The full moon rising over the island-filled horizon. The familiar ritual of seeking a wind-free spot along the tide for a swim with friends. The winds lifting leaves from the trees, stirring the dry, cracked milkweed pods until they burst open, setting their seeds free, one by one, to ride the breeze. There is something so tender, so fragile, in these small moments of letting go.
This past week, we celebrated Peaks Island's High Holiday Week, beginning with Sacred and Profane and ending with Halloween. Revelers of all ages come to the island to mark the end of the harvest and our entry into the darkness of the year. One season gives way to another. Things end, and other things begin.
Amidst the festivities, we were called into grandparent duty, heading north to Rockport to watch our granddaughter swim in her very first swim meet. We stood alongside the celebrations unfolding around us, while here at home we planted garlic, watched the moon rise, and counted our blessings.
And then, another reminder of life's fragility: the passing of our friend Phil Dalligan. How precious friendship is. How fleeting this life. Phil was a friend and a constant source of support, serving as our sound man from the very beginning of our concert series until illness and his eventual move off island took him away. He was a steadfast example of a life well lived: intrepid traveler, musician, father, and husband. We will miss him deeply and mourn his loss alongside his family.
So here we are, at the end of one season and the beginning of another. The tourists have gone, the seasonal water has been shut off, and we settle into the true off-season on Peaks Island. This is the time when we turn toward one another, settle into the rhythms of island life, and appreciate what we can offer and receive from each other. Perhaps this, too, is one of the gifts of the changing seasons: the opportunity to slow down, gather close, and remember what matters.
And what better way to do that than through music?
Join us Friday as we welcome Alasdair White and Eric McDonald to the stage at the New Brackett Church for what promises to be a beautiful evening of music.