Island post

We tucked into Nantucket years ago, as grateful for the sheltering island port as any migrators: the birds, the whales, the fishing vessels plowing the cold sea. We tucked ourselves into the narrow streets, grateful for landfall, grateful for the fierce strong sense of freedom that the island showed, freedom to come and go; all visiting across the fence or in the marketplace, little imparted and no questions asked. At last, concerned about some straying mail, we sought the postmaster to calm our fears, reviewed our residence through twenty years.

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