A friend wrote this poem after reading my latest blog and has given me permission to use it. I am very touched by it, as Clint would have been. Such beautiful words.
Thanks so much Sally!

She spread his ashes here

near the silent lapping waters of this river

where cattle graze on water-meadows

and swans catch sunlight on their bowing heads.

She sinks her toes into the mud

that captured his soul,

spiders cast webs like fly fishermen,

and birdsong lingers near the bank,

beside the memory-blue waters where he liked to sit.

And we know he could be in no better place.