I like this earthy mossy clear water smell. If I stand still, the sound of running water over pebbles, following a thin trail through the forest, is music. I must keep moving. After the forest I see flat land. I look around and see hills.
Some hills are high.
Thin little hills. I picture something rolling down the hill in a never-ending roll. I must walk carefully. Wherever I walk on this land, I must walk with respect. I am respecting the ancestors who came before me.