2000 times I have looked closely at the land and squawked to you what I have seen.
It has been beautiful.
But then the world has gone up in smoke.
And I have grieved at the avoidable waste.
And now there is rain.
And in this world of weeds, such as the knapweed below, beauty, still.
May it live long, and all weeds keep producing future life.
By gosh, we need it, in a culture designed to build lines of human social power in her place.
I am honoured to be a son of my Mother Earth.
In all her forms.
And all her mysteries.
I am honoured to stand shoulder to shoulder with all of her people.
Both in Earth and in the Sky.
I am honoured that she has chosen to show herself to me over forty years ago, and to let me in, without rushing me.
I am glad I have heard, and followed.
In the next 2000 posts on Okanagan Okanogan, I hope to remain worthy of her most enduring stories.
Canada is only a place we are building now, we people of the Earth.
It is not the story of the country called Canada.
That has been my journey, here in the Columbia, at the limit of one of her most northern watersheds.
Where my sisters step out of the sky.
Thank you, all of you, for honouring our mother by following my crooked path.
Your presence has made me rich.
We are stepping out of the monster together.
Heart of the Monster, Kamiah, Idaho
The world began here, some 16,000 years ago.
We are in the whirlpool.
We are at the centre of the world.
It is about time we came home.