She leans her chin on the shell filled with waters of the world and listens as we sing to her. When we go, she will coil her body into a spiral and remain, a fitting guardian for this land. To make it real, we must love every moment of what we do. Impermanent spirals embed themselves in asphalt, concrete, in dust. Slowly, slowly, they eat into the foundations of the structures of power.
Deep transformations take time.
Regeneration arises from decay. It can be done.