The Lighthouse Keeper
The dog days of summer are upon us. Admittedly, Nantucket's dog days are different from those of places like the southwest, where images of heat waves rising from the dusty streets have been seared into our psyches. In the cities of the northeast, the dog days are characterized by relentless humidity and still, fetid air.

Here we die from the heat if the thermometer goes above 80. There is almost always a breeze - or a gale - to keep us cooled down.

When the sun doesn't shine, as seemed to be the case for most of the past week - as well as the entire summer, the layer of fog or haze or low clouds that obscures the sun can be as enervating as any amount of oppressive heat. The dampness, and the winds that bring it into every nook and corner of our homes while limiting the options for our favorite summertime activities, makes us a bit cranky. Our out-of-sorts attitude is reinforced by the aches and pains that the humid weather seems to bring to the fore.

Then we are blessed with a day like Monday. When the sun shines so beautifully, it doesn't matter that it is relentless in its searing intensity, or that the sand is too hot to walk on or that the heat of closed cars is oppressive. We can be outside and do whatever we want. The sun's impact is mitigated by the breezes wafting across the island. In town, the shade of tall trees provides respite.

On such a day, the island looks its best, particularly in a year when all the vegetation is so green from ample rainfall. Everything takes on the sparkle of the ocean, the intensity of the sky. We recharge our batteries from the sun and our outlook on life improves markedly.

Such a day is an opportunity, not only to enjoy our surroundings as much as we can, but to commune with them; to reflect on them; to remember that they are why we live here and why people come to share them with us. Monday afternoon, I set out to do just that.

Walking towards the nearby pine woods, deep in thought, I was startled by a squawk. I looked over and there was my favorite red tail on a dead branch of one of the trees.

"Hey, Hawkeye, are you enjoying this beautiful day?" I said.

"Sure I am. How can you not enjoy a day like this?" He stretched his wings in the breeze. "It's been so wet that my feathers have been getting all cruddy. What a pain in the neck that is. It takes me hours everyday just to preen."

"I know some people like that," I responded. "I know what you mean, though. It has been so damp that walking across a carpet is almost like standing on a sponge. But today is too nice a day to complain."

"Yes, it is," Hawkeye said. "How's your summer been, so far - apart from the weather?"

"It's been very good. Kind of quiet so far, but that will change next week when the family starts to arrive."

"You know, that's my impression of the whole island," Hawkeye went on. From my bird's eye view and not being on the inside, it's a little hard to tell what's happening. The traffic can be pretty bad - no, awful - at times. I stopped counting the other day at 62 when I flew over the line of cars on Old South Road backed up at that dumb stop sign.

"As an aside, by the way, I have been wanting to ask you how a few disaffected people can get the new 'no parking' rule rescinded on Cliff Road while almost the entire island which is affected by that stop sign can't do anything about it?"

"That's democracy for you," I replied. "But you digress."

"I know. I shouldn't ask about things that don't make sense to me," Hawkeye sighed.

He continued, "Despite the traffic, I wonder how the season is going. Your paper had an article last week that said it was going pretty well. But my observations don't really confirm that.

"I certainly don't see as many cars getting off the boat. The restaurants don't seem to be full. There are certainly a lot of dark houses so the rentals can't be so good."

"How do you know about the restaurants and the dark houses?" I interjected. "Hawks don't fly at night."

"I have my sources." Hawkeye said with a smug look. "One retailer told me that in her store the season hasn't started yet."

"I'm jealous," I pouted. "I thought I was your human connection."

"Grow up!" Hawkeye squawked. "Seriously though, things have changed significantly in the last five years. People don't follow the same patterns that they used to. They make their travel and vacation plans much more at the last minute. They are more

concerned with value. They are much more demanding. They want new experiences.

"Nantucket has worked hard to maintain its character, but other factors start to play into people's decisions about where they spend their money. Bermuda used to be a favorite destination. For a variety of reasons, that is not so much the case anymore.

"Nantucket has the cachet today. If it wants to keep it and build on it, it is going to have to make a concerted effort to define itself as a premier destination in the years to come."

"Those are heavy thoughts for such a nice day," I said. "But, you have a very good point. How does the issue get addressed?"

Hawkeye thought for a moment. "It is tough, because there a lot of egos and a lot of vested interests. However, to insure that summer doesn't become one big dog day, I suggest that a commission of some sort be established to do some research and come up with a game plan. This should have started years ago as part of the town's economic planning effort, but it isn't too late. Just make sure that everyone who needs to be is represented."

"Hmmm," I mused, "democracy in action,"

"Enjoy the sunset," Hawkeye hissed, flying off. "I see a rabbit."

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The "Lighthouse Keeper" reflects the views of the author and does not represent the editorial position of The Nantucket Independent. Please send any comments to drake@nantucketindependent. com.

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