Some of the ash fell onto the water and swirled around making complex patterns before returning to its birthplace. A powder ribbon drifted into the rocks and settled in among some hardy wild flowers. The wind caught a little, and spun it upwards as a miniature tornado towards the oppressive clouds.

“Just like you,” she thought. “Never quite sure of where you want to be, but always happy wherever you end up.”

Somewhere in the midst of that simple thought, her grief seemed to vanish. She looked up. Perhaps the sky was not so gray after all. Perhaps those clouds not so oppressive.

She turned and walked towards the car. She felt sad, but somehow that was comforting now. She had been facing her future with uncertainty and trepidation, but now the trip seemed to hold nothing but mystery and promise.

“Thank you…”, she whispered.