Spirit AnimalCameron Bramley Imagine, if you will, an emerging, sudden connection to a wild animal. An unexplained claw-type emotive feeling, as if there is a story to share, a kindred kind of tale not yet expressed.

As images of his deeply prowling yet soft eyes come to pass. Thus, a journey has begun, and the story will unfold. As the natural world swirls around my day, I question its purpose as if there was a finite end.

If ever there was a lesson I was being taught by nature, it read something like this:
Flow with me,
I am the splinter in your heel,
The wind in your face
The Cliff above the seas
The dark deep blue depth of a million waves
I am the blade of grass thirsting for its drop of water,
The howling cry of a lone wolf or a wind-swept valley
An orange-red sunset or an early-rising moon
I am the weaving wildness of all things,
Gentle yet wrathful, a source complete, whole, and a dry season too
And so, the lesson continues.