April Snow

April showers bring May flowers, or so the saying goes. But what about snow showers in April? Do those count? Will the snow freeze the flowers instead?

During my morning hike today, the clouds dumped blizzard-like snow onto the countryside.

Nature is trying to stay green, despite the snow.

Here's a picture of the snow at a different shutter speed.

kʷn'kʷin'm'

kʷn'kʷin'm' - Spring Beauty - Claytonia Lanceolata 

Fire at Sacred Heart

Sacred Heart Catholic Church on the Spokane Reservation sits behind boarded windows and police tape after a fire destroyed the interior of the building. According to local news reports, the cause of the fire remains under investigation.

News of the fire caught me by surprise.

The other day, my co-worker arrived at the classroom and said, "I heard a church burned in Wellpinit." By that time, the event was already more than a day old, so we quickly found confirmation on the Internet. Of course, images of the fire saddened me. Only once did I ever attend services in that building, but my father was buried in the cemetery directly behind the church, and so I feel myself drawn to that place - connected somehow on a genetic level.

Police tape blocks the entrance to the church.

Blackened fire extinguishers sit nearby.

Some of the religious statues survived the blaze.

Even as a non-Catholic, I have to admit that images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus compel me. I feel a certain fascination and reverence, but I'm not sure I can even begin to explain all the reasons. On one level, it seems archaic, or even strange, to depict a human heart wrapped in light and flames. But on another level, this image holds a remnant or a shadow of something quite profound from the early history of Europe, a time when people were still believed in magical beings and the power of religious objects.

The Stations of the Cross were also preserved.

This image was perhaps the most haunting. The heat from the fire caused the body of Christ to blister, almost as if to accentuate his suffering.

My days vanish like smoke;

my bones burn like glowing embers...

But you LORD sit enthroned forever.

(Psalm 102:3 and 12).

KREM 2 news report regarding the the fire.

Essential

My son woke me this morning and invited me for a long hike by the Little Spokane River. All around we saw evidence of new life emerging from the remains of the past, like tender shoots of x̣ʷx̣ʷtéłp (cow parsnip) sprouting behind an abandoned wheel, or green leaves growing around a deer skull.

Observing the cycle of life and death made me think of the Buddhist concept of non-permanence. As the Buddha once said, "Life and death, and existence and non-existence, do not apply to the essential nature of things, but only to their appearances as they are observed by defiled human eyes. Because of human desire, people become related and attached to these appearances ... their acts, being based upon error, lead them into harm and suffering."

"It is because of this constant changing of appearances that we liken things to a mirage and a dream. But in spite of this constant changing in appearances, things, in their essential spiritual nature, are constant and changeless" (The Teaching of Buddha).

These concepts appeal to me. They keep me focused on the essential spiritual nature of things, and not the passing moods of life.

nexʷ qe wičntm t mlqnups u lxʷup łuʔ sčwax̣is. hayo.

We also saw an eagle with an injured wing.

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these" Matthew 6:28.

In whatever tradition, spirituality comes from observing what the true inner nature of things.

skʷmskʷmiw'tšn

y'e spisc'eʔ u qe wičntm t skʷmskʷmiw'tšn l' scqesci.

Yesterday we saw a rainbow at Little Falls.

Hog Canyon

My friend Adam Brown introduced me to a wonderful new hiking trail in a place called Hog Canyon. To get there, we drove west on Interstate 90, away from Spokane, and took the Fishtrap Exit. In fact, Hog Canyon is part of the Fishtrap Recreation Area.

An impressive waterfall is the highlight of the hike.   

We parked at the trail head and then followed the main foot path around a bend and over a hill. A few scattered pine trees stand watch over the entrance to the canyon.  

The falls drain into Hog Lake.

The water from the falls passes under a plain formed by pieces of loose basalt, making the river temporarily invisible. In a few places, you can actually see the water flowing under the rocks, like in this place where someone removed part of the basalt to expose the subterranean river. The river becomes visible again when it reaches the lake.

The falls are completely accessible by foot. We easily climbed the hillside and reached the top of the waterfall.

Above the waterfall...

As we returned to the car, the sun began to set.

An abandoned farm house near the highway...

A salmon shaped cloud in the evening sky...

Spring

Spring break has proved somewhat less eventful than planned. We had originally hoped to make a trip to Ainsworth Hot Springs in British Columbia, but travel expenses would have been too much for our limited budget. Instead we stayed close to home and enjoyed the restful time away from normal responsibilities.

One day this week, I took a long overdue hike to the Little Spokane River and observed the spring flooding over the meadow.

Another day, Rhonda, Dakota, and I took a drive outside Cheney and happened upon a young moose with its hind leg tangled in a barbed wire fence. We called the folks at wildlife, but then the homeowner came outside and cut the wire. The poor moose lay in shock for some time, and then finally ran away to freedom.

Dakota and Mariah took a short trip to outer space and returned safely back to earth.

I can't remember the name of the place on I-90 that sells statues and over sized lawn ornaments. We stopped for a short visit, but the cold weather chased us away. The snow started blowing just a short while later.

Gargoyles and fairies...

Moccasins

A small group of friends gathered yesterday to build moccasins in the Spokane style. I imagine the people were happy to learn about a local indigenous skill, but for me, I was just happy to spend time with my son. Dakota is building a wardance regalia, and so I have encouraged him to learn to make as much as possible on his own.

We organized the evening like a class, but we were really just a group of friends learning a new skill and enjoying each other's company.

The friendship and laughter made a memorable experience, but the evening lasted a little longer than expected. Some time after midnight, the first moccasin was complete and pictured here.

Salish Class

Spokane Salish is considered an "endangered language."

When I was a child, I remember hearing people speak the language in public gatherings or in private homes when the old people got together to visit. By comparison, my exposure to the language was much more frequent than now. But then one by the one, the elders passed away, and only a handful of people continued to speak as they did before.

By my count, perhaps only five or six fluent speakers remain on the Spokane Reservation, and maybe a handful of others with medium to advanced levels of proficiency. In any case, the situation is urgent: we need young people with a strong commitment to learn.

The Spokane Tribal Language Program offers a variety of Salish classes. I'm very thankful for their work, and still we find that many people are unable to access the classes because of scheduling conflicts or other personal factors.

For my part, I also faced a number of internal obstacles. Perhaps I focused too much on the difficulties of gathering a group of committed individuals, or on practical matters like conflicts with my work schedule. Or maybe it's something deeper. Maybe our commitment to the language forces us to face the colonization of the mind caused by the political, cultural, and economic oppression of the dominant society. On some level, our choice to preserve the language is an act of defiance against the forces of assimilation and a refusal to abandon our own cultural identity.

Whatever the obstacles may have been, a small group of family members finally got together and organized an informal Salish class. Our decision is an act of self-empowerment. We finally realized that we can't wait for class times to be convenient or for federal, state, and tribal institutions to support us. No one will give us permission. If we want it, we'll have to do it ourselves.

Most importantly, two of the remaining fluent speakers are close family members. What an opportunity!

We had our first class two weeks ago, starting at 11:00 am and ending at 3:30 pm. We gathered around my aunt's dining room table and picked apart the basics of grammar and pronunciation. We had our second class yesterday.

In two weeks time, some amazing things have started happening. One family member listened to my uncle pray in Salish the other day and said that for the first time in many years, he actually understood part of the message. Some time later, my cousin told me that her children have started calling their great-grandmother to share what they've learned. Our elder was moved by feelings of gratitude and joy to witness her great grandchildren speaking the language.

Good things are happening.

*

The photograph above shows a Salish worksheet I created about ten years ago based on the "How are you feeling today?" poster by Jim Borgman.