A world within created without, cupped by trees and mountain sides, fed smells of wood and pine.
hands coarse from shell and stone, bark rough on palm, grains of sand falling between fingers back to ground.
Wind carrying stories with the smell of sea and salty shores, the sun shining down on upturned face and teeth in grin.
Feet of crow edged in skin from times traveled and rarely lost, lines of smiles join the map, some of frowns too and troubles on the journey to lighter finds.
Fairer weather comes in then out, the current of waves similarly come and go, hoisting a sail and to listen and wait, as one to grow in the ever changing ebb and flow.
Thank you to the Ngaro people, what a beautiful, magical, yet unpredictable place.
Thanks for watching :)