Having lived in big cities for most of my life, I sometimes feel a disconnect from Nature, as though it is located somewhere outside city limits, which is where I normally become aware of it.  We know, of course, that Nature is an integral part of us, our very source of physical survival.  Our life force and its life force are intertwined, and we exert maximal influence over each other.  Many of us are aware that praying over, meditating on, or blessing our gardens produces healthier plants.  In other words, we give our love and Nature returns the favor by giving us sustenance.  I was privileged to see this Giceiving principle in action when I visited a Hopi family.  My son and I had been at a sustainable living conference where a Hopi fellow asked for help in planting corn since his father was over 70, had diabetes and there were only three men to plant a few acres by hand.  Although there were over 100 people at the conference, only my son and I showed up to help.  We had gotten up at 4:00 a.m., traveled almost two hours into Hopiland across the amazing painted desert, and when we got to their area, we got a little lost because we were told to turn right at the rock that looked like Three Elders.  This was really outside city limits!  After breakfast, we were driven to an area nearby where there was beautiful red rock and somewhat sandy soil.  We were told that two weeks prior they had opened up a small dam to irrigate the area but that that would the only water they would have, other than rain.  It happened to be a year of drought.  I was given the assignment of giving each man exactly five kernels of their sacred blue corn to be planted.  The men would kneel down, use a pick to push the earth back, gently place in the kernels, and cover the hole with their hands.  Every few minutes they would stand up with arms outstretched to the sky and say to Mother Nature, “kwakwha,” which is how Hopi men say “thank you.”  These were very moving moments for me as I saw and heard the gratitude they have for Nature.  My son and I returned for the harvest and because of the drought, it was half of what it was the year before.  Their attitude remained one of gratitude as they drove back home with their bounty where the women were also appreciative and happy to see what had been gathered.  I can now understand how our Native brothers can be sustained by dry farming the sandy soil of the desert–it is the Giceiving of appreciation and gratitude between them and Nature!