
I reflect upon this year as the sun star rises in a northeastern sky. ‘He’ has reached the end of his northeastern journey.
Wave after wave – oceans of grief break over me at dawn – tempered by the same cycle during which I have been graced by a most powerful love in the form of a young canine companion. Love and Loss are such intimate companions.
‘She changes everything she touches, changes…’ during cycles of grief S/he changes nothing at all.
As the solstice bears down on us under a hard blue dome so does the fire. It is hard to believe that three weeks ago temperatures hovered in the 40’s. I resist the stifling heat of June coupled with days of torrential rain, cold, and wind that are presently drowning a field of lilies, wild lupine and roses. Fire and Ice. On good days there is the increased noise flow of man-made machines. Slow down please, I plead. Let me listen to the wood thrush, experience this space in between without bouncing between extremes.
I am feeling resentful, cross over the loss of spring and the relentless rains that destroy every flower just as it begins to bloom. I must honor the child who is heartbroken or I will make things worse. Wildflowers bring her the greatest joy and most have been under perpetual siege by inclement weather. Many plants were not pollinated. Too cold for bees.
Continue reading “She Changes Everything She Touches: A Reflection on Love and Loss, part 1 by Sara Wright”








