"The river is a slice of mellow harmony amid the deadly hemlock that grows here. It flows like time, always onward, always toward its destiny. One day these placid waters will enter that great ocean, each drop a vital part of what becomes the mighty aquatic world. In the shade of the boughs we wade in, feeling the welcome kiss of coolness, watching the eddies that swirl and disappear. The water surface is livened by brief crescents of white that are fish arcing as they swim. Our eyes travels down stream, caressing the dapples that bring the shine of the water to a hue so homely. This forest is so far from the home we left, but right now it doesn't matter a bit. This moment is my own and right now, in this flash of the time continuum, I am at home. No matter the chatter of the trees, the grove ahead is welcoming, refreshing. On quiet days it can be heard to whisper its wisdom, on stormy days it is lost to all but those who listen closely. The grove, adorned with those bright hemlock plants and marble ruins of a civilization long passed, always talks, always speaks the wisdom of the ancients to anyone who treasures its words. Even on the rainiest of days it can heard beneath the splashes of the river, a sacred melody, always moving, always present."

Brotherhood report #012