Time, seasons, passages. I have just come from a beautiful hilltop garden overlooking the river. A Flower service they call it and it takes me back to my childhood when we gathered in Grey’s Mills. Tiny Daisy Parks and her tall husband Joe would arrive as would many others for the annual service to remember those who had gone before. As a child I did not grasp the depth of the day or the scope of the emotion and reverence. I thought Daisy and Joe to be ancient and I was a bit puzzled by whole concept of the Flower Service. I saw tears , heard laughter and stories and felt connection while at the same time feeling puzzled and bothered by having to spend a summer’s afternoon at church. Why was this such a big deal to everyone? Time , seasons, passages. The familiar words of Ecclesiastes read this morning resonated deeply as did the words of Kate’s message. I was exactly where God meant for me to be and my soul received comfort. I feel overwhelmed by it all but feel a deep peace, awe and reverence. I took myself to today’s flower service and was gifted an hour in a stunningly beautiful place , the vast sky above me , words and music and beating hearts gathered near granite headstones and the wide ribbon of dark blue water in the distance. I gazed at the white steeple and looked around at my contemporaries, my elders, children and teens and felt connection and belonging. I got in line to take a blossom from the bucket to place in the Bouquet of Remembrance. I silently spoke the names on my mother , my father , my oldest son and whispered the names Devin and Dylan. I remembered and gave witness to those who have gone on before and to my own mortality. I sat and broke bread , laughed , told stories and recalled what I witnessed when Daisy and Joe and many others gathered together on those July days of my childhood. Time , Seasons , Passages, and our place in it all. I do believe I understand it better now.