One of my dearest friends shares a family camp in a remote location that can only be reached by boat or by a five mile hike culminating in a river crossing to reach the island. On the hike in, there is an ancient hemlock that sprouted on top of a glacial erratic (a boulder dropped during the last ice age) and the roots have grown down the sides of the boulder and into the ground. It is a magical spot, and some of my store of Kat's ashes were left there. Some more were scattered at the end of the island, looking west toward a beautiful mountain view across the lake. I will continue to carry her with me in my travels and leave a part of her in the beautiful, wild places I find.