Do you see birds on trees, how they leave, to get a drink or a bite to eat, fly away, and others follow, and the whole day goes by, birds and more birds? We become birds when we die. We fly away, but we come back. I know because . . . I feel myself sometimes wanting to lift off, go right to the mesa and have a feast: eat our bread, stand in a circle, and hear my grandmother talk about our people.
10-year-old Hopi girl
