From the misty haze of morning light emerges a sound, drawn from the rivers of spring and lifted to the edge of the forests’ reach. This is the place where the Iris climbs upward. This is the sacred hollow, the common ground of four wanderers. Ours is the voice of youth, of light, of harmony; the voice that speaks louder, crying out in search of meaning. In search of a guiding melody that returns the soul to the forest. The Iris is that which is in all of us, growing, and changing. Allowing each person to embrace their beauty, and to develop into that which they absolutely must. This is the search for that pureness of self: Good Luck Finding Iris.