The Gorse Fox and Silver Vixen had to venture north and east into the wastelands of Essex. An Aunt had died recently and it was time to lay her to rest. She had had a hard life and a large rift had formed within that part of the family - but throughout, she had remained in contact with the Silver Vixen.
A bitter wind cut across the wastelands and blasted Harlow - somehow making it as welcoming as the Gorse Fox remembers it. It is almost 35 years sine we had moved from the area but, like PTSD, the memories linger!
The ceremony was intimate, with about a dozen people there to see her off... to a far warmer place, given the bitter nature of the weather. (On reflection, GF should explain that she was being cremated - no other interpretation of that last sentence was intended !)
After we went our separate ways we stopped at a nearby restaurant and had nice meal with Silver Vixens's sister and mother. It was strange - the restaurant was really very nice and not at all how the memory banks recall the typical local watering holes and eateries.