The stone altar was raised and the God Poles, carved over the entire last year by members of this Tribe, have been set into the ground behind it. It rests below an ancient apple tree that still bares fruit, even though it is crooked and old. Our Tribe is also imperfect, but earnest. It resides in a calm woodland grove at the edge of a small ravine looking over a running stream. When the fireflies, torchlight, and lanterns dance here under the tall locusts and maples this will all become song.