Like Peter Rabbit escaping his costume, Beatrix Potter shed the conventions of her youth and the strictures imposed by her overbearing mother — first the left shoe, then the right, then the brass-buttoned jacket ensnared in the gooseberry net.

William Heelis scattered her ashes in an undisclosed location without pomp or circumstance – no audience, no ceremony, no headstone. 

Her life came full circle as the lake-district landscape she so carefully observed and protected for most of her 77 years quietly absorbed the fine ash and remnant bone of Beatrix Potter Heelis.  

~ Melissa Dickson Jackson