This is the Tor (or hill) topped by the 14th century church tower of St Michael’s in Glastonbury, England. Both my wife and I have many uncanny connections to this place, and when we finally visited a couple of years ago we had what I can only describe as a mystical experience. As I entered the grounds of the nearby Abbey ruins I literally fell to my knees and wept. The knowing that I had lived a beautiful lifetime there was clear and overwhelming. My wife had a similar experience in the ancient apple orchard. Perhaps I was one of Arthur’s knights, or a lady of Avalon, or a simple monk. I don’t know. I just know that it felt like home. The flowers symbolize a welcoming home – which is what we both experienced – of the tiny figure walking up the path. Even as I write this, the emotions well up within me.