It is not a forest but a park. It is still my noble and holy grove. And it seems I continue to find things there that resonate like the bell bowl at the end of yoga, profound and sustained.
Hail Freyja on (arguably) her day!
N.B. When I went to leave an offering to the vættir of this noble oak on Friday, someone had draped another flower chain on the statue of the Lady. The resurrection fern was bright green with the rain, all was dripping quiet and everything was spring.
Found on my walk through the grove I called the Blessed Oaks, a flower wreath on the statue I call the Lady of the Grove. Hail Freyja (the headline which for some reason does not appear).