Mag 90,11/8/11

    After doing a rub of the gravestone she got up from her knees.Stretching all her muscles like a cat from top to bottom; she reached down into her knapsack and pulled out the spray for setting charcoal and pastels.
   "Moore" ran through her mind slowly- trickling over her memory like a stream over stones...Was it Margaret Moore ? She wondered and looked all about to see if there was any detail on the family plot .
Ahh- M. Moore with the dates- it could be-
   She finished waving the paper lightly to dry it before rolling it.  Hmmm- The woman who had taught her art class way back when-? She stood staring down at all the grass and leaves.
What had she said - Something on that last visit, about translating art, combining it with writing...and how she was even considering putting it to music, though she knew no notes really; had no training in it....
   "Wow," She surprised herself saying it aloud.Gathering her things,she smiled. Time to start reaching for other connections. Ways to expand.
   She turned in a circle. Like these trees all around, their branches reaching up and out to the sky and one another.