As the sun and it’s warmth slowly descend below the ridges of pine, birch and apsen; I am connected to the earth, wind, air, fire and water. The golden light softly reflecting off of everything that it touches. It is the same way an artist imprints their magic in whatever form they choose. Place your hand upon the earthen ground and the language it speaks will run through you like a river through an unmarked plain. All of nature has a song if we only allow ourselves to listen. There is music in everything that moves and in everything that breaths. As a bird on the wing gently glides through the sky I am reminded that my spirit will never grow old. It has been here before. It has stood on these tribal grounds. It has and always will be one, one with all the elements.