Three spirits are trapped within the wood of a dying tree: an eagle, an old Native American, and a young buck. Unfortunately, this kind of tree is giving way to disease. Butternut, like the American Chestnut, will be virtually extinct.
My house sits on an area that Native Americans used for centuries as a hunting campsite. My garden is full of arrowheads and flint pieces. Deer cross my yard (and my garden) unimpeded, except for my dogs who give a short chase. Bald eagles, very rare in my childhood, are slowly making a comeback. Did I say that this place is "spiritual"?