And the Winner Is . . .

I'm using a photo prompt for my writing today. It's late at night after three long days at work and nothing much is coming forward. 

I chose three possibilities. The first, a snarky meme that fits my mood. The second, a snapshot of the way I left my mother's house before heading back home on Friday. The third, a photo from my living room window of a beautiful evening sky. 

The photo of the sky really does not do it justice. The photo of the meme does not do me justice. The snapshot of a moment of leaving Mom's does everything justice ~ especially the space that held a family for generations, now empty of life because of death, but still filled with memory and the energetic signature of years of life and the lives of those whose energy whispers there still.

It may be a little crazy to leave cut flowers, knowing it will be ten days until my return, but I've been doing that -- leaving flowers. Sure, they need to be cleaned up and cleared away and replaced when I go back. The water might evaporate and there's no one to replace it. The flowers might wilt. But, of course, that's the nature of flowers.

And of life.

Creating Space: Three Months of Showing Up for What's Showing Up is a daily writing practice. Turns out that a lot of this writing explores the landscape of grief. My mother died shortly before I began this writing, and this is what I'm thinking about most of the time these days.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.