dogs and ravens talk and play. She was roosting on the rock where I write, but decided today to dance with the dogs.
I went to the tomb of the rabbit, curious because of a comment from Andy, to see more. I took a packet of redgold, my agate dog tooth gilding tool and some sizing. At the back of the tomb was a small treasure that has now worked its way into my story. Like a seed, like bone, like a heart, like the markings of a labyrinth.
Cold and windy on the hill. The skull, so porcelain delicate. I gilded it, but not well, as gilding in the wind, I found, is difficult. One sheet blew away like a beautiful leaf, high, high into the dark grey sky and π chased it, over the hill and away and away.
Too cold to write, I should have bought a scarf, but head filled with words we went home, past the curious cartography of rock, with a landmass of moss and islands of lichen.
Half way home the dogs went chasing rabbits, and I whistled to call them back and The White Cat came running, wondering why we had gone without him.
Back home I photographed the gift of the rabbit skull. The bears watch over it now, for a while, curious as to what it is, or whose heart. They are like that, bears, always wanting answers.
And this morning I had my first reported wild sighting of stone and gold, from Frances Green, who, running on the beach found this, and left it in the wild.