My sons are support as I deal with transition and grief.  They hold a container for me. We three love the book The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.  We read it aloud when they were young.  Again, this morning I read the part where the robin directs her to the key and then to the ivy-hidden door.

I sit with that now, with gardens and doors.   

Peer into Roses and Bowls



Rocks or Doors?



2 thoughts on “Morning Mourning

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