As the sun rose over Wellfleet on this chilly Easter morning,
shellfishermen had already been hard at work for hours, despite the bitter cold northwest wind, and were starting home with bushels of oysters jammed into the backs of their trucks. The tide was quickly covering the flats when I arrived at the harbor. A few pedestrians were about, wrapped in scarves against the wind, but otherwise the town seemed deserted. Cars packed the Congregational Church lot for the ten o'clock service, and colorful Easter eggs swung from the branches of a Main Street Easter egg tree. 
