Melodic piping carries across the valley – calling to the hearts of those that hear:

‘Listen. Listen to my call. I beckon across the years, across the ages, from a time when these lands were hot, volcanic. When steaming springs bubbled and islands rose from the warm waters.

Your kind were not here then. But we lived. We are your relations and friends from the times when our bodies grew large and strong under the light of the sun. In the moonbeams water loving creatures and we earthbound ones watched the stars as you do. We call to you across the millennia to be at peace, as we were. We died where we lived, and you find us there now, undisturbed in the hard muds and limestones, your ancestors.

Your ancestors call to you.

You humans disturb us. Your desire for change is great. But change will surely come, everything evolves. You journey far, searching for the sun, when it is always above you and within you.

Celebrate your life, your experiences. This is the message of your ancestors.

We lived and died and formed your bedrock. That is our gift to you. Build your lives upon us and continue the generation’s gift to your offspring, and to the offspring of their offspring.

Across the hilltops and through the valleys the haunting sound of the pipes echoes.

The scorpion, stretched across the hillside hears it, watches the countryside change from hot scorched land to glacier to verdant pastures, and smiles an eternal smile of unconditional love.

Page last updated: 13th Jan 2011