by Josh Franken
Frigid gusts push against my face as the smell of pine invades my spirit. Clouds from the west crouch along the timber line yearning to release the much needed rain. The sounds of trees cracking and leaves falling enter into me and I pause to look at the sky. Another western wind hits me and and I feel the chill of winter beginning. As I begin to pray, I ask Mother Earth to show me a sign of the season change. My prayers are momentarily suspended by the squawking of a crow looking for shelter from the inevitable change.
Josh Franken lives on the beautiful Umatilla Indian Reservation. He is active in his community and enjoys such hobbies as writing, art, and the wonderful field of Bar-B-Que.