Birds wheel above me in the sky. Their cries reach me still somehow from their places way on high.. I listen carefully, as each one tells me how it is free, able to travel to all places and be bound by none. I feel the breeze caress my cheek, rustle my hair. The scents it brings to me mingle with that of the leather I wear, and my sweat.

The sun too, it torments me, and the clouds. The sun is warm, not hot - but cruel, nevertheless with its sense of inevitability. While I am here it shall touch me as it pleases, leaving only at the momentary whim of a cloud - another beast that torments me. The sun heats me and makes me realize more and more with each passing second where I am, who I have chosen to be. The clouds each whisper to me, "how is it that you move more slowly than we?" The answer to that is simple: I do not move at all… like a pure aspect of nature I have become un-moving except to grow.. and I grow only in my head, a place I am slow to realize has b...

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