Several times during the last few weeks I thought that I'd write a new blog entry.  

I've written a lot here about Brian's death and I thought I needed to "move on" from that.

What does that mean??

I think we might not "move on" but rather try to pull other thoughts and activities to the forefront to fill in the space.

The space that is big.

Moving on might mean to lay a soft blanket over the grief.

For the morning or for the day. 

I usually get up early, perhaps at 6 a.m.

Two coffees made by my 30- year-old Rancillio machine, added to hot milk and a dash of cream.

Sweet Oliver, my cat, gets wet food and a bit of chicken broth before I look quickly to see if any "important" messages have been recorded on my phone overnight.

Then I pull on my gum boots and head to the beach.

Willows is beautiful in the early morning light  

        And I struggle to find my phone, buried under layers of clothes, to take another series of photographs.

Each morning the sky and water are different.

Each photograph uncovers another layer of beauty.

With a noticeable compulsion to gather "special" stones, I often walk on the sand.

I search especially for stones shaped like a heart.  

And I add these to the ever-growing collection on a metal table on the deck.

 I put some of the smaller hearts into my pocket so that when I go to the cemetery 

I can lay one on Brian's headstone 

And bury a piece of Brian's favourite milk chocolate into the ground.