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100zaban said....
Salam Nebula and happy colored days, nights, minutes, hours, seasons, moments, breaths.....
You reminded me of ........When i was in Canada in 1369-1990, i read in the newspaper a poem written in 1880 from a native american who said (i was amazed by these words and can only remember this part!):LIFE IS LIKETHE BREATH OF A BUFFALO IN WINTER
i sent it to my mother when she had lived about 60 years of her life. Life and buffalo breath became her favorite words too. she told me sadly of how her great grandfather-Solomon-had rushed about 200 years earlier with other white men to wipe out nature's friendly buffalos in search of gold.
When i now think, i know that i have never seen a buffalo in the wild, but can truly, without any effort imagine THE BREATH OF A BUFFALO and know for sure that for me GOLD can never take the place of THE BREATH OF A BUFFALO and all its memories.............