season's end

The culling begins

Today is the official end of the summer. Stores and restaurants are closing. Cottagers are shuttering. Block Island becomes once again home to the 900 or so (fewer than the deer!) misfits and retirees who make this their official address. It's time to repair the casualties of the season—or throw them out. The dump will be filled with beach chairs and boogie boards, grills and bicycles, stoves and lawn mowers. I'm switching out rotten windows. No building permit. Don't tell.