You cannot see the difference from the mainland, or from the railing of your tour boat as it circles the nine, flat, stony islands split between New Hampshire and Maine. But like other long-time Shoalers, I can feel the movement. These tiny islands are drifting, not through space, but through time. Very slowly, like a distant rolling fog, they are gliding into the 21st century.
This article appears in the June 2005 issue of New Hampshire Magazine