I have taken some time by myself, going down to the local fishing stream, and coming back with a jug I've filled with fish. I set down, start a fire -- the main one seems occupied by that bufallo -- skin and clean the fish, then lay them on the coals over some wet leaves to keep them from scorching. Yes, the heads are intact!

I then pull out the berries I have collected along the way, mostly thick and juicy blackberries, but some fine and delicate raspberries.

I watch the smudging. It seems all we tribes do it differently, those of us who perform the ritual.

Satisfied, I lean back against a rock that forms just the right comfort for my body.

It is a beautiful evening!