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Water at the Threshold: Autumn Rituals of Bathing and Remembrance
The path climbs steeply. On either side, belladonna plants rise like green sentinels, their glossy leaves and purple-throated flowers marking the way. At the height of summer, on the day of the solstice, I walk this path each year to greet them. Their presence has become part of my calendar, a quiet ritual of return. At the top, the sound of water thickens in the air before the falls themselves come into view. Angel Falls, I call it, for the angelica that surrounds it in tow
