Looking at the sky, thinking 'bout the Old Ones.

[Sonoman]

Sitting on my Sonoman hill, great trees and views.

What did the Old Ones think.

What did they believe?

When that wild one passed, that lunar guess.

When the day was short and shadow cast.

Upon the moon, the Mother of the tides...

What did they think?

What did they know?

Of things to come

From shadows past.

What would they glean?

Going on,
Sonoman