So, I returned from a trip from Colorado this morning carrying a Holy Fire in my guts. It was a late night with a nearly full moon when a glowing Spirit emerged from the cold river. She ascended the river bank with a message for the Chosen Few that sat starring at the campfire in the rain.
"Go forth!" she said with a voice that sounded like a mix between a Didgeridoo and a chain smoking goose that had been clipped by a speeding Fed Ex truck, "You chosen few shall embark on the task of bringing back the curtsey!"