Swan Point Cemetery, Providence, Rhode Island. And here it is - H. P. Lovecraft's grave. This was a momentous occasion, so we got out of our car.

We (in particular, my mother) were initially afraid the plastic tree frog left by someone was real, but as it was unusually still... well, false alarm, or so we think.

It didn't occur to me to bring anything along to make grave rubbings with, so, didn't do that. I just touched the grave, grazing it with the back of my left or right hand (can't remember which). Nothing too special to say about that - if I recall correctly it was just cold and smooth.

Among the things that were there were (as you can see): a yellow and black plastic tree frog, a few pieces of paper, apparently letters, which we didn't pick up and read (and which I still wonder about), but we could see the date on one of them was August 12th, and there is also a more difficult-to-see feather that was sticking up out of the ground to the right of the papers.

Anyhow, in the face of all this, I felt rather unworthy and ashamed. I actually started feeling rather morose and guilty, and I had the urge to abandon there the The Case of Charles Dexter Ward book I had gotten (but my mom stopped me, so I didn't).

In any case, I kept taking pictures...

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