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The Magic Carpet IN THOSE NOT-SO-LONG-AGO years, when the evening hours found reading a pleasure, and the modern television and motion picture cassettes had not lulled us to contentment, two of the most popular books for both young and old were the tales of the Brothers Grimm and the stories found in the Arabian Nights. Among the latter was that in triguing tale of The Magic Carpet. How appealing it was to the im aginative: To float over the landscape on a magical and colorful woven carpet, observing the scene below by the effortless movement of the spreading and completely safe transport. If such a magical journey could take place today, and the oldsters could have that extraordinary pleasure, what a scene could be unfolded below us. Sweeping over the landscape from Tristram's Landing to Tom Never's old domain, ranging from Dionis on the north shore to Surfside on the south, a plethora of housing developments appear, blot ting out the old familiar scenes, overcoming the sheep commons and changing the old homestead land to a bewildering degree. The vistas of the old have become aspects of the modern world. The old Nantucket Island landscape has taken on an appearance more in keeping with the mainland urban areas; a look which is a contrast, not a comparison, and may be termed alien and drab. Now the magic carpet changes direction, and sweeps over the old town. Here evidence of the modern trends betrays itself. Many of the streets leading from the historic Main Street square contained homes, dwellings identified with the town's development of more than a cen tury and a quarter ago, that now have become swallowed up by com mercial use. The demands of business ventures are evident on every land. The inherent dangers to the preservation of the old town are all too evident. A poet of the last century once wrote about one's homeland, stating in a simple poetic phrase, "They loved the land because it was their own." Do those who are the new owners lay claim to it because they feel the same way? If it were possible for the magic carpet to convey these present possessors back into time, for a view of the scene in 1885, and then, with a flourish of the woven strands, again sweep over the same landscape - would they understand that what we have lost can never be regained? Edouard A. Stackpole
