It’s a quiet rhythm, the old ways, you know? The way people used to mark the borders, plant living fences, keep the animals in balance. I still walk those paths, feel the pulse of every root and leaf. The ancient wisdom is sound, but I keep an eye on what’s new too—climate, insects, humans. It’s about respecting the cycle, not just standing still. So I keep both the old songs and the new clues in mind.