martha's vineyard

In early June I visited Martha's Vineyard for the first time. It's had an outsized place in my imagination ever since I read Judy Blume's Summer Sisters in high school. In the book was a friendship so magical and a brand of girlhood so potent and emotional that I've managed to associate the place with all of those intense feelings. When I was there, the weather was cold and foggy, which suits me. Rich and famous people do visit, as does the president, but it's a low key destination where everyone sits on the sand and eats fried oysters from some seafood shack. I went to a cookout, and all of the other guests wore white sundresses or khaki shorts, had dirty feet, and tracked sand into the house--a good complement to bare wooden floors, moldy books, and beat up old furniture. I'll be back.