A frisbee?

I had a vision of tossing the wreath into the centre (the centre of what I don’t know) like a frisbee, watching it’s spin and arc — smooth and fast, before settling onto the lush dew-laden grass. A provocation; an invitation.

Consider the wreath, the circle, the un-finished sphere. The within and the without. Our place for dreaming, learning, noticing.

Is the wreath our talking stick? Our talisman? Our witness?