Being at the hermitage for the last time yesterday, grabbing some last minute items such as buckets and a special “stations of the cross” brought lots of memories, lots of nostalgia.
The tree above rises some 140 feet from the top of the ridge right next to the hermitage. The base is something like 12 feet around. I realize the little red flower isn’t a flower, but that’s all there was. I think my guardian angel pointed it out to me.
Here are those stations of the cross, and yes, those are thorns:
And then I recall, next to another hermitage-cave:
I am very grateful to our dear Lord for my time in the hermitage. My whole time was having the privilege of giving flowers to Jesus’ good mom. Again, my favorite, on the path up to the hermitage, destroyed later by – I think – the person who also, on multiple occasions, was throwing out deer rifle rounds in my direction, perhaps a dozen each time. But our Lady remembers them: