 Well, my name's John Bluefeather, I'm a wilderness guide photographer, and I got this beautiful book out, 44 photos and 28 poems, and I'd like to read one from one of my favorite. Actually, I got five minutes and the poem is only four minutes, so I'm going to have a short introduction to this book here if I can. Bluefeather's Wilderness. The purity of wildness strits unreality from all who adventure into his powerful domain, and the longer one stays, the purer one becomes. When solo canoeing in the remote wilds of the Yukon or Alaska for a month or more, one's earthy, civilized consciousness begins to slip away unnoticed, as the more powerful and expansive realm of reasoning takes its place. Even as a youth fishing the streams and lakes of western Washington to climbing peaks and canoeing in Alaskan, Canada, it seems I have always had this need to explore what I like to call the deep wilderness. And even more exciting was when I discovered an unexplored deep wilderness within myself. I equate it to the caterpillar who in reality is a butterfly. We humans must awaken to the fact that we are cosmic beings encased in a mortal form that must be loosened and shed before our butterfly is allowed to fly free. Hopefully these poems and photos will help you to realize that you are more than meets the eye and will entice you to explore into your own deep wilderness. So with that out of the way, I've still got four minutes left to write. So I spent a lot of time in Yellowstone as a wildlife photographer, a wilderness photographer, and I have this one valley, real remote place that I go into. And every time that I've been in there probably five or six times, there's a pair of red-tailed hawks that comes out to greet me. And I call this the Wilderness Telegraph. We've all had the occasional like hundreds, especially where you go out in the woods, and a squirrel lets the whole world know that there's a big bad guy with a gun right there or whatever like that. I call that the Wilderness Telegraph. But when you have a red-tailed hawk and now it's you on the Wilderness Telegraph, you're in good company indeed. So I've been thinking about this poem for a while and so I hope you like it here. It's called the Wild Cosmic Dance. Entering the domain of the red-tailed hawk. A land wild where grizzlies walk. A land where the wolf and the elk interact. As if they had signed some ancient pact. A country untouched by the human hand. A place where the wildest have taken their stand. To be here is a privilege and honor bestowed. I feel like a candle that through a storm has glowed. For my inner fire comes from a source unseen. That same innate Wildness that causes the fox to prune. For all must have vigilance if we would stay alive. An unforgiving land where only the strong survive. You can see weakness lying among the sage and stones. Scattered on the earth are his feathers and bones. For only the alert and stealthy are allowed to move on. A partnership together like a doe for its fawn. For the wild ones move together in this ancient cosmic dance. Predator and prey co-mingle as in a ill-fated romance. Intertwined with each other for thousands of years. But Aquarius is upon us. It will soon soothe their fears. For Father God who gives life from his eternal flowing fountain. Says no more killing on this my holy mountain. And even the storms will calm with only perfect weather. Cersei's for all of fur, bone and feather. And peace will fill like earth, waters and sky. Love will reign supreme embracing you and I. Harmony will be the song we sing from happy hearts. Loving one another all fulfilling our parts. For the wild ones in tame will see eye to eye that we are like pieces of the same pie. And the grizzly and wolf will no longer need to stalk when entering the land of the red-tailed hawk. For the golden ages here as we hold hands together loving one another as birds of a feather.