To the Editor:
As is usual for this time of year, as a rite of spring, I bundle up, step outside at dusk, and keenly listen for the oh-so-familiar primordial sound of the beloved annual pinkletink chorus.
But wait! What is that I hear in yonder wood? Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
Could it possibly be? The mating call of a yet-undiscovered amphibian species?
But alas, it is merely the unrelenting noise of so-called “progress,” the soundtrack of the incessant building projects that are crisscrossing and encircling our little Island, replacing the “peeping” with the deafening “beeping” of the earth-moving machinery’s backup alarm systems.
Oh well, there’s always next spring, right? Well maybe, just maybe.
Cathy Weiss
West Tisbury
