There’s a spring awakening — of commerce, new beginnings and friendship — on Winter street in Edgartown.

In one storefront, Michael Hunter has started a pop-up outpost of his cool, eclectic Oak Bluffs shop, Piknik. Next door, Recep Dinli has traveled considerably farther to open his store, Kissmet, which sells brightly-colored, handmade wares from his native Turkey.

Both men said serendipity brought them to this corner of Edgartown near Nevin Square, a block away from Main street.

For Mr. Hunter, a fashion stylist who has owned and operated the Piknik gallery on Dukes County avenue in Oak Bluffs for 15 years, the series of events that brought him to Winter street started in Boston.

Last winter, Mr. Hunter opened a holiday season pop-up shop on Beacon Hill — a chance to get to know Boston better, he said. At his shop on Charles street, he encountered the unexpected — dozens of Martha’s Vineyard shoppers, people he hadn’t met during his time on the Island.

“I was astounded at the amount of Vineyarders that I saw in Boston,” Mr. Hunter said. And dozens of people said they hadn’t heard of Mr. Hunter’s shop. “You must be from Edgartown,” he’d tell them. And they’d respond in the affirmative.

“That set the seed in my head,” Mr. Hunter said.

So one morning he came to Edgartown, Mocha Mott’s cup in hand, looking for a last-minute spot in town, thinking he could do a pop-up shop-type enterprise. He ran into Ezra Sherman from Point B real estate, who pointed out that the spot at 11 Winter street, the former Bluefish store, had become available two days earlier for a short-term lease. Mr. Hunter thought he’d take it for the summer and see how it goes.

“Everything fell into place,” he said while standing in his new store, which has been open for about a week.

Shoppers are greeted with the scent of a pine candle and white fixtures and furniture offset by artwork and clothes. A large white shell holds State Road chocolate bars, white bird cages are used to hold soaps and other wares, and a white anchor bedecked with jewelry hangs from the ceiling. Jars of McClure’s pickles sit near the door. Like the store in Oak Bluffs, the store is curated by Mr. Hunter, with an eye toward work by artists and fashion designers that can’t be found elsewhere on the Island.

In one corner, a blue and white striped duster dress hangs on the wall, framed by small nautical paintings by Vineyard artist Terry Crimmins. “This says it all,” Mr. Hunter said of his store’s aesthetic, which is half apparel and half artwork.

This summer, Piknik will feature the work of Alexander Berardi, the toast of the New York fashion scene who has a “Newport meets Great Gatsby, 1930s feel,” Mr. Hunter said. The store features artwork from several artists, including Tom Stephens, Carrie Mae Smith, Nate Praska and Anne McGhee.

In Edgartown, business is already brisk, he said. While the new gallery will have largely the same merchandise as the Oak Bluffs store, the season starts earlier in Edgartown, he said, so he’s able to reach clients who may be doing their spring and summer shopping.

The Oak Bluffs store will open around Memorial Day.

“The support — I mean once the buzz was out that I was coming, the support has been amazing from other galleries and most of the [shops], you know, it’s been awesome. I have tons of clients from Edgartown, and I think I’m going to see them more,” Mr. Hunter said.“I actually have some people who went to Oak Bluffs looking for me there, and heard I was here.”

Beyond reaching more of his clientele, the move to Edgartown was spurred by concern about how the Oak Bluffs traffic situation might affect his business this summer. Part of Dukes County avenue was recently changed to a one-way street, which Mr. Hunter said has made it hard to reach him. “I’m not open yet, but it’s terrible for me, you can’t get to me,” he said. “The Arts District is just cut in half . . . it’s ridiculous.”

His new neighborhood in Edgartown is a good fit, he said. “I’m surprised how many people I know in Edgartown, who either live here or work here . . . So many of my clients live within this square mile.”

Mr. Hunter praised his neighborhood and neighbors. “I love it, and I love being on Winter street,” he said.

And Mr. Hunter said he adds something to the Edgartown shopping mix, carrying brands that are otherwise unavailable on the Island. “Every store and every gallery has its own personality,” he said.

Nedim Dinli (left) and his father, Recep, at Kissmet. — Alison Mead

But Mr. Hunter said his clients might still be asked to travel. “If I’m out of a size, and I have it at the other location, then I’m going to make them go there,” he said. “I want them to go experience it. I’ll say ‘I have it, but you have to go.’ ”

Just a few feet away, Mr. Dinli tells visitors “make yourself at home” at Kissmet, a store filled with colorful pottery, lamps, furniture and rugs. Curious shoppers who stop by are served apple tea in elegant little glasses and given evil eye pins, which are used for good luck.

Mr. Dinli said it was his own good fortune that he came to open this store thousands of miles away from his home in Turkey.

“Friends, clients, neighbors are asking how we came all the way from Istanbul, a 16, 17-hour plane ride,” Mr. Dinli said. “We say, kissmet!”

Mr. Dinli, who has an atelier in the bustling heart of Istanbul, said he was looking to expand to the United States, thinking of a seasonal business in the Bay Area or the Midwest. During a visit with friends in Boston, someone suggested the Vineyard.

So he came to the Island at the end of November, when the streets were quiet and the weather was cold, and at first he thought it might not be a good fit. At his other atelier in the “tourist heart” of bustling Istanbul, business is bustling all day long, year-round with people from around the world. His wife, a chef, serves Mediterranean cuisine nearby.

But he said he found similarities between the Vineyard and his home country, where people drink tea or Turkish coffee on the ferry across the Bosphorus Strait to Asia. A saying goes, he said, that we are guided by three magic sounds: the sound of water, the sound of money, and the sound of women.

Here on the Vineyard, he said, there is “rushing water, people appreciate good, fine, handmade one-of-a-kind, quality, and there are beautiful ladies.”

Three weeks ago, a 40-foot container of goods arrived from Turkey, and the Winter street shop has been open since then. Mr. Dinli, his son Nedim and Nedim’s wife are all in residence.

On their first day in business, the store sold a ceramic plate made with 17th century colors to a woman who collects ceramics. One night after dinner, a woman, her daughter, and her 16-year-old granddaughter all picked out pairs of shoes, he said.

Brightly colored lamps hang in the windows of the two-story space, which is filled with intricate carpets, scarves, jewelry, furniture and ceramics — handmade items, he said, that are part of a long Turkish tradition. Instrumental music plays in the background.

One-of-a-kind shoes and bags are handmade from leather and kilim, 100-year-old carpets. The handmade nomadic carpets, washed and then cut, are part of a nearly vanished culture, Mr. Dinli said, of artisans working with hand-spun and hand-dyed wool. “There’s no other one,” he said, holding up a patterned, heeled shoe.

Mr. Dinli learned his trade from his grandfather, he said, a merchant who showed his grandson the business at an early age — how to repair collect, buy and sell rugs. “I didn’t go to school, I was a little boy, five, six years old, and he would take me to the bazaar with him, and teach me the business,” he said.

He praised the Vineyard people, noting the Islanders who helped them find everything from electrical equipment to good yogurt. “We have very dear neighbors,” he said.

The Dinlis are quick to offer visitors homemade Turkish delight and meatballs made by Nedim’s wife. In June, more family — and more home cooked food — is on the way, as Mr. Dinli’s wife, their 17-year-old daughter and four-year-old son will come to the Vineyard. “We will enjoy those days all together,” he said.