It was a dark and stormy night...

...kidding. It was a misty, foggy day, though. A quiet day and productive as far as my writing went. I wrote today about my dad's maternal grandfather, about how he still worked a team of four horses cutting timber and hauling the trees to the sawmill at age 70. And today for the first time I realized that my dad passed away on the same date that his grandfather had - September 24th. Great Grandpa Lucas died at 71 in 1926 when my dad was not quite six years old, and 81 years later, my dad died on the same date just one week shy of his 87th birthday. Who will remember what day I died?

Random photo: Vineyard Haven Cemetery this afternoon