A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW
BY DANIEL W. DRAKE ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER
Saturday was one of those special days that allows us to temporarily put aside the question of whether we are really insane to be living on Nantucket in the spring. True, this season has been better than most. We have been teased by quite a few clear, fairly warm days, but even since Saturday, the weather has reverted to the damp, clammy mess that is so prevalent on the island until the middle of June and sometimes beyond. The only thing that usually saves it is the quickening pace as summer friends begin to return and the visitors start pouring off the ferries.

No matter. Saturday was at least a nine on the weather scale. The breeze was still a bit cool, but it wasn't too strong; in fact as a day for doing some catch-up around the yard, it was almost perfect. Even the red tailed hawks seemed to be enjoying themselves. They could be heard regularly expressing their delight as they, like shadows, crossed the brilliant, blue sky.

Despite the beauty of the day and the shrill sounds of the birds, I was in the mental zone that one finds oneself in when doing a repetitive task that has been on the chore list every year for the last 25 and is no more interesting or less time- consuming than when one first did it all those years ago. It took me a minute to realize that one of those squawks was very close and in fact a bird's shadow was not moving. I stopped sweeping and looked up to see Hawkeye fixing me with an approving glare.

"Good morning," he said. "It's good to see you doing something useful."

I took umbrage. "I admit that this is something I meant to do a couple of weeks ago, but I have been really busy. There is a lot going on at the paper and on top of everything else, I am even filling in as a reporter this week, because someone is on vacation. I…"

Hawkeye interrupted. "I don't want to hear about it. Busy is relative. Now I have been busy. Have you ever had to feed three screeching babies?

"Well," I said, in fact I have, but never all at once. I have fed three teenagers all at once though. That should count."

"I don't think so," Hawkeye retorted. "It's not like you can put the hawklets in baby seats next to you and feed them cereal, while you read The Economist. These babies want action. They want…."

"Spare me the details," I insisted. "However it was with the chicks, you certainly sound like you are happy now. The baby detail must all be over for this year."

"Yes, and a good thing too." Hawkeye continued. "They are out of the nest and pretty much out on their own. It was tough. I am ready for some peace and quiet The only thing they need now is an occasional reminder of the difference between a mouse and a sock. You would be amazed at how many socks get left around."

"How do you expect to get peace and quiet when summer is just starting here," I asked. "Look how busy just the neighborhood has gotten. The houses that were empty all winter are starting to fill up. It is hopping around here."

"I love it," Hawkeye said." I get to people watch and when they don't know they are being watched, they do some pretty silly things. For example, look at you with your shirt off. That's quite a sight."

"Well…," I stammered. Hoping desperately to change the subject, I continued, "Do you think the island is ready for summer?

"More than you are," the bird retorted. But then, sensing my acute discomfort, he went on, "Yea, I guess so, but I have to tell you, there are some things that worry me."

"What might they be?" I asked, relieved to have the opportunity to have him focus on something else but a little apprehensive about where he was going.

Well," he said, I'll just give you a very few examples.

"What has happened to the big signs that used to be around? Like the one by the graveyard that said "Madaket" with a nice arrow underneath it? The arrow even pointed in the right direction. Many of them are missing or were never there in the first place. Some poor guy was really upset the other day, because he couldn't find the second bridge on the Eel Point Road and he was afraid all his chicken legs would spoil before he finally got there. You have to have signs so people can find their way around. After all, they don't have the same perspective I do.

"Then there are the potholes, like the one on the Madaket Road out in front of the DPW garage. Some of them are getting big enough to lose your cat in. Can you imagine if you hit one of those on your moped while staring intently at the rear view mirror watching the 18 wheeler full of c&d waste bearing down on you at 45 miles per hour? My kids would like to see that.

"Oh, and then there are the taxis. They run the world. They take up half the parking spaces in town. The bus routes don't work right because the taxis have so far successfully fought the competition, but most of them disappear in the winter when there are no busses either. And for all of that, they charge an arm and a leg. I heard about those visitors around the corner from you who, a week or so ago, had $9.00 in extras added to the fare so the five mile ride from the ferry cost them $27.00. That's before any tip. They couldn't afford to go back!"

"Well, from the sounds of it, you think we have some work to do," I interjected. "What do you think of the new roundabout? Do you think it, at least, is an improvement?"

"Too soon to tell," Hawkeye replied. "Before they put the curbing in this week to guide the traffic in and out of the little rotary, it had gotten to be a game for some people about how fast they could go through it and how many other drivers they could intimidate. I noticed that the people coming in from Hooper Farm Road have had a particularly strong sense of right of way. There has been no stopping them.

I thought for a moment. "Before the roundabout, those drivers were definitely the wallflowers at that dance. With the roundabout, they feel a new freedom."

"You can't get carried away," Hawkeye replied. "And, by the way, it's time to stop talking. You have work to do or you won't be ready for summer." With that he flew off, but not before throwing back a parting comment. "Please, please, put

your shirt on." I

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