Everything is difficult in a global pandemic never mind being separated from home by the Atlantic ocean. 

There are days when I'm not quite here and yet I'm not quite there. Everything seems upside down - life feels fractured. Yet, if I were to examine each shard I know it is holographic, containing the whole story,  maintain the connection.  My bones were formed of from the same minerals found in the very bedrock of the land. My body holds much memory of my ancestors. The rain that falls on the Ben and flows into the Loch is the same water in my cells. The whispering of my ancestors sings in my blood.

 I keep myself sane with the silent communication of ritual. Switching off my chattering head and letting my hands take over. These little sacred sites are portals to the Otherworld - a connection to the ancients. A walk into the Wildwood. 

Birth, death, renewal...

 

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