“Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every
hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad
or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb
and dead as they swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with
memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the
very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps
than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare
feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond
mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived
here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes
and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red
Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth
among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my
tribe, and when your children’s children think themselves alone in the
field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the
pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place
dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages
are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning
hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land.”
— Chief Seattle

I could not possibly say it better.  I have been getting in touch with ancestors, specifically my great grandmothers whom I never met. The Spirits are waiting for us to honor them and to pick up the threads of our communication…
DON’T FORGET TO VOTE!!!
love to all and a happy Celtic New Year!
Ellen (Saille)