Nantucket in
April is quiet, restful, almost devoid of tourists, but stirring in anticipation
of the hoards to come. Flowers are going into all the window boxes. Out of delivery
crates come piles of new sweatshirts and t-shirts that will be sold down by the
wharves. Shopkeepers fuss with the placement of their old pieces of
scrimshaw and new batches of Nantucket baskets. The woman who runs one of
the bike shops is overheard to say, "If you know anyone who can work
mornings, send them my way." Shops and houses everywhere are
being scraped and painted. The workmen -- all these men who in another time
would have been climbing the rigging of ships, setting sails and looking for
whales -- now climb their aluminum ladders. There is, about the entire
town, a festive air of getting readiness. Walking the streets feels like
walking through a great room of pretty girls getting ready for the dance.
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