I am Star Dancer. In the old days, Seneca Lake was exceptionally quiet. All you could hear was the lapping of the waters and the occasional rustling of leaves. Even now, as I slowly drift along the shore, I can’t help but become aware of a breeze gently moving through the trees, bushes, and wildflowers. I notice everything: the cry of the large birds, the movement of the trees in the wind, the faintest noise of a small animal, the sound of a fish jumping, or the flash of a band of wolves from the past.