It was impressive to watch all of the lobstermen work so efficiently to load traps onto the boats.

The students thrust the storage bin lid containing 37 or so wriggling worms into my arms.

The natural resource-based economies of the past are adapting to new populations…

Like those who gathered around the campfire, the young actors courageously step out onto the stage…

Nowhere have I found a community where the generational divide is as smudged as it is here.

I never thought I would find myself craving less alone time. Last year I longed for stretches of silence...

Reflections is a monthly column written by Island Fellows, recent college grads who do community service work on Maine islands and in remote coastal communities through the Island Institute, publisher of The Working Waterfront.

As I adapted to a new home, it took time to stop calling the ocean “the Lake.”

If I were to limit myself to searching for friendships in my age group, I would eliminate 95 percent of the community.