There is plenty to be thankful for. We are thankful for the beauty of this place, for the early morning November ground fog that hovers over the fields and rolling woodlands of West Tisbury, for the pale orange sunrise that climbs over the eastern edge of Chappaquiddick, for the deep scarlet sunset that floods the western cliffs of Aquinnah, for the sound of the horn on the Island Home as she rounds the breakwater in Vineyard Haven.

But now Thanksgiving has come and gone and the kitchen is still strewn with leftovers: turkey for sandwiches and later soup, mashed potatoes and stuffing for a late-afternoon snack but first and foremost that stalwart best among New England traditions — pie for breakfast.