I see you look at me, walk up and touch me. You set up your fancy camera gear and then sit down on our Mother Earth. I see you become very quite. I know what you are feeling. “This is a sacred place.” The moon has risen. The darkening sky behind us has bathed us in all the colors of the rainbow; just the blues and purples remain now for a few more moments before night covers us both.
See the moon. Here, I’ll point it out to you with my branches. We are eternal, at least from your fleeting point of view. When you were born I was here on this rocky slope, greeting the moon just as we did this day. When you go back to your camp I will be here all night in the company of the moon. When the winter snows come and the cold mountain winds blow, I will still be here in this thin air as I have been for thousands of winters. When you and your children and your children’s children have all departed, the sun and the moon and the stars and our Mother Earth and I will still be here.
(129)
