The time will soon be here when my grandchild; will long for the cry of a loo, the flash of a salmon, the whisper of spruce needles, or the screech of an eagle. But he will not make friends with any of these creatures; and when his heart aches with longing, he will curse me. Have I done all to keep the air fresh? Have I cared enough about the water? Have i left the eagle to soar in freedom? Have I done everything I could to earn; my grandchild's fondness? Chief Seattle. Tsliel-Waututh (1899-1981); Red Eagle Bustle
