Oh man! That takes me back!
I descend from a long line of beautiful souls who drifted across the plains of the Americas, settling in nooks from Patagonia to the Yukon.
I am of a diverse and proud people who look and sound like fall leaves turning red yellow brown gray. All season long (and seasons last millennia anymore) we flutter and spin and waft down to the ground. In varying colors and with the correlating degrees of elasticity and openness, a life floats around itself down to an earth by turns sturdy and dry, hard and cold, moist and gushy, or covered in waters that come and go.