How beautiful we are even as ashes we are lovely.
Anne and I completed this task today, she is the ashes and
I carried the basket and the shovel.
But who was it who burned a hole in the basket with the lite smug stick
and who was that masterful caterpillar wiggling its way across her field of white?
her soup pot 
Oh my, you had a big day. You always do way above what needs to be done, at exactly the right moment, and with your whole heart and soul.
LikeLike
So glad to hear Anne is on her way, to sleep in the fall and winter and be re-born this spring. She is embraced by the earth who will nurture her and Anne will in turn nurture her. The insects are keeping her company on her journey as is the spirit tipi. Such an intense yet beautiful time of being.
LikeLike