consolidating grief in the southwest corner

I'm out in the yard -- lovely Brigid's Mantle -- I'm in my rain, in my earth, walking off a pretty big day that I feel mighty good about despite a few flares of worry in my jaw and my ankles.

For a while now I've said imagine your anxiety as your excitement, but tonight I even feel it as my commitment. Commitment is a whole other mood that's doing something for me right now. Talk about a magical word!

I get excited to tell you that, how what I had been feeling as regret is now revealing itself as loyalty in pain -- and then I see something in the yard I want to take a portrait of. The way some mystery critter has woven a cloud-like roof over Ballybrónach, which is funny because I’d just been telling myself that postpartum madness is essentially a cocoon — hmm, maybe all sorrow is -- and then, I guess on the theme of sorrow, I feel the weight of not being able to take a photo that can actually show you what I’m looking at…

I call that Crop Anxiety. It’s a sweet one — an urge to keep and to share every lovely thing we see, impossible as that is.

I decide not to disturb the webs of Ballybrónach. Lately I’ve been feeling like consolidating my grief rituals into the Keening Corner anyway, really charge that land with that intention and free up Ballybrónach to tell some other story — though I do love the placename too much to change it straight away.

Plus there’s plenty of grief to go around. :)

So I take a photo of this other spot instead. Can you guess what I loved?