My ancestors lived here. They gloried in Nature – lived close to Nature – worshipped Nature.
I feel their spirit in the stones they gathered, in the marks they carved into the rock – in the whorls and lines.
I feel their presence in the tombs and circles.
This is where they laughed and loved – where they spoke solemn words, planned, hoped and pitted their wits.
This was where they fought and made their stand.
This land has their blood and bones, and the bones of the beasts they hunted.
I feel their presence around me when I stand in the structures they left behind.
I feel the things they loved. I feel the landscape on which they depended. I feel the pleasure and the pain – the good times and hard.
They passed it down to me to cherish. They passed it down with great hope for betterment.
I feel their spirits in the land. I feel the obligation to Nature.
I hope to pass it down to mine.
