The stage was hers. The mountain her audience. Mid-morning on a weekday was not the time crowds gathered here.

She sat crossed legged in the center of the amphitheater. In her two hands were a brace of wrist-thick branches she thumped against the stage in time with the Pearl Jam beat in her head. On occasion, one branch would clang against the tube of her bike; a stand in for a cymbal. Her melodic voice filled the empty space all the while, the long notes of the chorus carrying smoothly.

"Now I can't see, I just stare
I, I, I'm still alive,
Yeah, yeah I, oh, I'm still alive,
Yeah, yeah I, oh, I'm still alive,
Yeah, yeah I, oh, I'm still alive, yeah.

Once too shy to be heard, more and more Kenzie could be found singing loud and proud like this. She poured out her woes as she poured her heart into each song she sang, reminding herself to own who she was and to hold her ground and stand tall upon it.

Her bike suddenly toppled, knocked off its kickstand by a too-enthusiastic smack. Kenzie startled, her singing abruptly interrupted as her head whipped to look at her prized possession, its front tire angled upward as the rest lay flat on the stage. Standing to right her bike, it was then that she noticed she was not as alone.