It's cold and rainy here today. I walked home from a friends house and got soaked and chilled to the bone. While I walked, I thought about my place in this world and about my ancestors. I thought about the people who roamed this land in winds and rain and snow, who gathered what little it had to offer from the fields and woods... How strong they had to be to make me possible. There is that strength in me somewhere too, the same kind of hardness. But I have lost touch with it. I don't recognize it in me anymore. I am losing my language and wobbling on my feet, uprooted and lost. I need this land. It is poor and sad and harsh, but it sustains me.