Wapun Meadow The road is getting hard to see

Rosemary, lemon balm, sage, Eti recited. Sage, he knew. The scent was familiar, always billowing from his aunts' den. Witchy and magical. A nod. I can look for sage, Frederick said. He did not know where or how it grew, but he knew its smell. But this would not be enough, so he would ask: Where does it usually grow?