Shapes

The cliffs near Kewa were spectacular in their own right, but we also discovered strange shapes, presumably created from a mixture of water and natural clay deposits. Some of the shapes were perfectly round, like the image above. 

Others shapes were organic, but with small holes in the center. 

The clay broke away from the main wall of the cliff in layered chunks. 

In this photograph, the large chunks are darker than the small shapes. This is due to the difference in moisture levels. By the time I got home, the small shapes were already dry; however, the large pieces were still damp. 

Earth Ambassador Video

Jolene John from the 1991 Earth Ambassador group directed my attention to this video from our training experience near San Diego, CA. After all these years, I had forgotten that this video even existed. 

Looking back as an adult, I am humbled to think that I got to experience something so powerful and meaningful. I am also amazed to feel the authentic rituals that bound our spirits in a commitment to the Earth. It would be interesting to have a reunion and see what each of the original forty-eight participants have done with their path. It would be even more interesting to select a new generation of Earth Ambassadors to carry the message forward.   

What a wonderful memory. Beautiful!!!

Earth Day

Members of the Spokane Tribe and others from the community gathered by the river to observe Earth Day and to honor the water.

The people also gathered to meet with members of the Mother Earth Water Walk, a group of indigenous women and men who are raising awareness of water as a human right and of other environmental issues. Four separate groups set out from the shores of North America, each one representing a different cardinal direction. The western group started its journey in Aberdeen, Washington. The eastern group started from Machais, Maine, the southern group from Gulfport, Mississippi, and the northern group from Churchill, Manitoba, on the shores of Hudson's Bay. As their website indicates, "The walkers, journeying over 10,400,000 steps and carrying the healing and sacred salt water from the four directions will converge June 12 in Bad River, Wisconsin. The water will then be united in Lake Superior, where the first Water Walk began."

The Spokane community is fortunate that its meeting with the Mother Earth Water Walk happened to coincide with Earth Day.  

The water ceremony took place at the totem pole in the heart of Riverfront Park. The Spokane people gathered in this location for thousands of years, until the establishment of a city in the late 1800s. It was fitting that we should return to that place.

As a side note, the Plateau tribes did not use totem poles. Sometimes non-Indian people put up totem poles in the Spokane area as an attempt to respect the local indigenous people. It's ironic and discouraging that people try to honor us but don't take the time to learn about our culture. 

Most totem poles in the Spokane area are strongly out of place. However, the ones in Riverfront Park are perhaps more appropriate. In 1974, the island in the center of the river became the site of the Canadian Pavilion, and was renamed Canada Island. The totem poles were built to honor the tribes of Canada in general and the tribes of British Columbia in particular. Canada Island is a reminder of our cultural ties to the north.

One of the walkers was presented with a jar of water from the Spokane aquifer. She spoke of the sacredness of the water and the need of people to care for the earth.

People of all ages are walking thousands of miles as a show of reverence for the earth.

Deb Abrahamson directs the SHAWL Society and is a member of the Spokane Tribe of Indians. She helped to coordinate a meeting between the walkers on local indigenous people. In this photograph, she is holding a basket filled with smuk'ʷšn (arrow leaf balsam root). She presented these plants to the group, along with other traditional foods.

Francis Carson (pictured above with Deb Abrahamson) brought his drum and sang several songs in honor of the water and of the people.  

Pat Moses and Yvonne Swan spoke to the group.

Pat represented the Spokane Tribe.

Yvonne represented the Arrow Lakes Band of Canada.

Francis Cullooyah represented the Kalispel Tribe.

Spokane mayor Mary Verner also addressed the people.

The sun appeared during the ceremony and provided a welcome relief from the dreary, overcast skies. This marmot on Canada Island emerged to warm himself in the sun.

The old YMCA building in the park is being demolished. After the ceremony, I had the chance to speak with Mayor Verner and to ask what the city plans to do with this site. She explained that they are going to restore the site to its natural state, as much as possible. She also said that a channel of the Spokane River that once flowed under the building will be restored.

Various pictures from around Riverfront Park...

After everything, I had the chance to take a few pictures around town, like this one of the Spokesman Review Building (above) and of the horse statue outside PF Chang's (below).

Canada Island sits between two channels of the Spokane River.

Earthquake

The earthquake in Sendai, Japan offers a shocking reminder of the awesome and sometimes destructive power of nature. Over the last several days, I have found myself watching amateur videos and news reports of the tsunami that completely devastated many of the coastal areas near the epicenter. The immensity of the destruction and human suffering are utterly unfathomable.

At times like this, I think that my individual concerns are quite insignificant by comparison. I also feel humbled by my own mortality.

*

When I was a child, I lived for about eight years on the south side of Seattle, which has its own history of earthquakes. At least once a year, my grade school practiced earthquake drills. The teacher would stand at the head of the classroom and announce a make-believe tremor, then all the students would scramble under the shelter of tables and desks. We were instructed to crouch low to the ground with our backs to the windows and our hands over our heads. This position was supposed shield our bodies from broken glass and falling debris. From the innocent perspective of a child, these drills seemed like a game. I never imagined that the earth could ever really move beneath my feet, but if it happened, I felt confident and prepared.

In all the years I lived in Seattle, I never felt the earth shake.

*

My first earthquake experience happened during my mission to Guatemala when I had been in country for less than a month.

On September 18, 1991 at 3:48 in the morning, an earthquake measuring about 6.0 on the Richter scale shook the nation of Guatemala, though we later heard varying reports regarding its intensity. The epicenter was probably less than a hundred miles away.

The quake woke me from a deep sleep. The ground jolted in a sharp side to side motion and felt as though a gorilla had grabbed a hold of my bed frame and jerked it violently from one side to the other. The sound was startling. We lived in a one room shack with no insulation and a corrugated tin roof. All the metal rooftops in the neighborhood combined into a deafening roar, like the sound of a passing freight train.

When the shaking stopped, a chorus of howling dogs pierced the air, mingled with the screams of frightened people.

The whole event lasted about ten seconds. In fact, it all happened so quickly that it seemed like a dream. I sat up in bed and struggled to see into the darkness. Finally I called out to my companion, “Compa, what happened?”

He seemed annoyed by my question. “It was an earthquake,” he mumbled, “They happen all the time; now go back to sleep.”

As a child, I prepared for this moment, but when it really happened, I felt utterly powerless. I must have sat awake for more than an hour as the proverbial "Fear of God" became palpable and real. In my youthful arrogance, I sometimes felt immortal, but the earthquake made me think just how insignificant we really are and shattered all my illusions of human dominion over the nature. In that moment, I stared into the face of my own destructibility.

The next day, we heard that nineteen people died in a neighboring town.

I realized that for all our technology and learning, life is still fragile. Throughout the following days, I reflected on my childhood earthquake drills and realized that my preparation did nothing to help. By the time I understood the danger, the earthquake had already passed. We simply had no time to even consider taking shelter. If my house had fallen, I would have died, period. As a young person growing up in the United States, I was conditioned to believe that I control my own destiny, and while I still believe in personal choice, I realized that some things cannot be helped.

*

Now as I watch the horrifying images from the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan, I find myself stricken with grief. I struggle to understand why some survived and others perished under collapsed buildings or under the black wave of the sea as it extended beyond its normal bounds. Perhaps some things are unknowable. Yes, life is fragile, and ultimately precious. In the end, we cannot control the awesome forces of nature, but we can always choose to act with compassion for our fellow beings.

To help the victims of the Sendai earthquake and tsunami, you can find a listing of various relief organizations working in Japan by clicking HERE.

Photo Credit: Kyodo News/AP

San Andreas Fault

The San Andreas Fault marks the boundary between the Pacific Plate and the North American Plate. Just south of San Francisco, the fault is visible in the form of a long, north-south trench that has been filled with the waters of Crystal Springs Reservoir. In spite of the obvious danger, human beings continue to develop the land surrounding the fault. Bridges and freeway overpasses stand within a stone's throw of a moving continent, while a dam actually straddles both sides of the fault. It's difficult to imagine how these developments will be affected the next time the earth decides to move.



These cars are driving directly above the fault line.



A car driving above Crystal Springs Reservoir.