I face south, sur.
The yucca centers this orientation and movement through its symbolic burst of material emanating from a single point. The ash is black from a brush burning.
I scatter it to create a barrier which echoes the broken circle of La Lechusa Tank sitting east of me.
La Lechuza of Tejano mythology flies through the sky as an owl and walks the earth as a witch.
The guardian mountains are surrounding my circle on all sides.
I know I am here in this moment, marking the hibernal-solstitial, solar noon at which the south extends its farthest reach out to the light of the sun and the next cycle has been activated.