She stood on the granite slab teetering next the waterfall spillway, sweat droplets now replaced by quenching spray. Sun burnished her skin, adding to the crinkles around her eyes and mouth.
She made the arduous climb, reciting poetry, and lilting songs of joy and remembrance.
She took the small cherry wood box from the pouch in her knapsack.
“Good bye my love,” she whispered casting the contents to mix with freedom of the winds, powerful force of the falls, strength of the mountains, and limitless possibilities of the vistas beyond.
They swirled for a moment, about her head, as if a final gentle kiss, then on to become a part of the place he so loved.
“Ashes to ashes; dust to dust.”
* Kanas Dust in the Wind
And a little Kanas “Dust in the Wind.”