Once upon a time, in a special place on the North Fork of Long Island, stood a very magical cottage. It was over 150 years old but each morning woke up like a newborn to smile on the red, rising sun. It was a happy place and it even had a name: Creekside. It stood only a short distance from where the first settlers arrived in the mid 16th century, on a beautiful creek, of course, filled with swans and ducks, kingfishers and egrets, and an occasional blue heron. All who visited felt the timelessness of its being, and its love. And with that wonderful gift, I would foray forth each day to learn what lessons I could, and my heart was gladly filled. My peripatetic teachers were the earth, air, fire and water. and I can share with you, here, but a taste of what they said . . . . .