A northeaster had just dumped two inches of snow. At Block Island’s Old Harbor, fishermen labored shoveling white powder out of their vessels. As this was January 1942 however, the
A northeaster had just dumped two inches of snow. At Block Island’s Old Harbor, fishermen labored shoveling white powder out of their vessels. As this was January 1942 however, the talk of the locals on Block Island, like any American community, was.
As January comes to an end, we find ourselves in another season: mid-winter. So far it’s been a mild winter, without any of our regular winter diversions. True, it is nice not to have to be worrying about plowing out driveways, or the inevitable.
Yes, it’s still November as I write but I am tired of gray November and when this is in print it will be December. There was no need to take a photograph, scrolling through my absurdly large number of photos on my phone, many duplicates I should.
No, we’re really not an army, but every Wednesday morning at 9 a.m. a group of us meet at The Nature Conservancy on High Street. Our goal is to help maintain the many miles of Block Island’s Greenway trails. We are named Adrian’s Army after our long.