i am the crookn mile, the moving river the setting sky, the gull, the wave , shore, sand , sea
and some of those and a little of trees, when the wind sifts their scent and you know ,I am also
a country. Its face and Tribe : a million smiles and years of changing styles. Changed lives.
Death and Life. Fields and filled harvest. Emptied wells and growing eyes. All of these. Somehow, like trees, planted by streams of Living Water .