Walking through the
mountains you can feel the mighty spirit. You can hear it in the crows call as
it flies high above you. You can see it in the water cascading down the
hillside. You can touch it in the power of the pine needle in your hand. The
misty, chilly rain has now turned to snow flurries that begin to blanket the
ground beneath your feet. Under a blue-gray October sky, the Dao rides again.
