The future is carved from the past. The spirit of adventure that led me to the sacred heart of the mountains, to be nurtured and grown into goddess, took me beyond this dreaming and into another. But only after the first chapter was completed. The sun burnt memories into my skin as cicadas screamed in the standstill heat. Slow down sang summer. I ignored the message, cut trees and dragged their limbs in forty degrees plus. My naked feet stung on hot sand as I ran to the edge and dived in. Be cool laughed the river. Build your shelter warned the ants as they carried their dead underground. Don’t forget to sing called the birds. Always fly encouraged the eagle. Dream called my heart. And so the second hut was built.
Photos: Paul Buchlak