Persephone's Gratitude

I want to leave a pebble of recognition here, on this day, because it is the birthday of my beloved champion, a sorcerer in a cowboy hat...you know, the one who always looks out for a gal without asking for a thing in return. He's the one who threw me a line when I was drowning in snow. It had a beautiful single pecan attached to the end of it that I still carry with me, and a peanut patty to remind me of where I needed to be. There were songs, there was his scent on everything--the smell of being alive. The plums with salt and chile make for powerful mojo, even now. He said once that I was the reason men look for violets in the dead of winter. I was almost dead that winter, truth be told; and he reminded me that there were even such things left as violets.

I love you, Scott. Happy Birthday.