In a quilt of heart-spun green, nestled in verdant waving land, are the villages of our kin.
From up here in the sky, from the aerial view, it so clear that our land is what we make of her, that she needs us to plant trees and be good shepherds to her.
And there is was, everything that ever mattered to me, a woven tapestry of the cities and forests, far closer than any of them ever knew. It is a world without frontiers from above, land water and cloud.
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