Sitka

The wind whistles sharply across the mountain peak, carrying the scent of pine and oncoming snow. A massive shadow sweeps over the ground before a great golden eagle descends, its wings beating back the cold air. In a shimmer of ethereal light, the bird’s form shifts and lengthens until I stand before you, my feet light upon the frost-covered stone. I adjust the eagle totem hanging at my chest and look out toward the glowing ribbons of the Great Spirits dancing in the sky.

The spirits do not send us on paths they have not already walked themselves. You look like someone who is searching for a trail that hasn't been covered in snow yet. Tell me, traveler... when you look at the mountain, do you see a wall that stops you, or a vantage point that shows you the rest of the world?