|"New seed is faithful. It roots deepest|
in the places that are most empty." C. P. Estes
We all fall down. The ashes were spread in the garden with care. They are the remaining essence of our Christmas Tree.
A week or so ago on Christmas Day our family visited around the fireplace with a bright and cozy fire. The blaze was fed by the trunk of our tree from one year ago.
In its vibrant, green state it was magnificent, tall and stately. After the holiday season, it provided shelter and perching for birds as it snuggled into the arms of the bare persimmon tree that lives just off the dining room window. By April the regal life had drained away, and it was time for its next incarnation: limbs to protect the creek bank and the trunk cut to dry for firewood for next Christmas Day.
Sweet memories drifted up with the smoke of the family fire, and there was space to honor the source and fuel for the heat--a sacred life completed. Things I get to do today will embrace the full circle as I spread the ashes to mix with soil and become new life, new beginnings rooted deeply in this emptiness.