Throughout, Moore-Dunson's somewhat simple, illustrative choreography for “Black by Nature” lent itself to storytelling. After the music-and-dance vignette, “If a Tree Falls,” that translated the philosophical question, “If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” to “If a Black person is attacked in the woods and no one sees it, did it happen?” and the spoken essay, “We are Water People” about people being of water but also being at times betrayed by its disastrous storms and floods, Moore-Dunson, on the Prather Trail hike only, recited his most salient spoken essay, “Dear Miss 33.”

It told of an encounter Moore-Dunson had while walking behind a white woman on a hike who kept looking back at him warily, and how they both feared one another. She was afraid of being attacked by a Black man, and he was afraid of accusations a white woman might level at him for being alone in the woods with her. The essay described Moore-Dunson's internal debate over the distance he felt he needed to keep from her: should it be 33 steps, 33 yards, or perhaps 33 minutes for them both to feel safe?

“Black by Nature” concluded with “The River,” danced by Moore-Dunson, costumed in all white, wading in the Cuyahoga River. The poignant solo, accompanied by Cole's desolate-sounding saxophone music, echoed a West African naming ceremony Cole had experienced in tribute to the many lives lost at the region's largest slave market.     

Waist-deep in the river, twisting and turning his body as he cupped river water onto himself, Moore-Dunson seemed to use the water to wash away his and his ancestors' wounded relationship with nature. Then, lying back to float in the river with Cole's saxophone music fading, the sounds of rushing water took over, as did nature's healing power, which seemed to embrace him and all in attendance.