Opening Narration: On Walton's Mountain we marked time by the passage of the seasons. In autumn we built fires in bee trees to gather honey. Our lives ebbed during the winter when the earth slept. Spring crocus brought the first blossoms foreshadowing the abundance of summer with its sweetcorn and lightning bugs. Generations of living on the mountain yoked us to the rhythm of the land, a touchstone to the strength each of us carries within ourselves. I was to discover this when I left my home full of expectations, only to find that my destiny was not where I thought it would be.