This fall equinox we have golden light across the fields. Yesterday, we followed the Kalama River up into the foothills of Mt. St. Helens to look down at riffles and water streaming over larger rocks. Strands of old man’s beard (Usnea longissimi) that looks like Spanish moss is draped like icicles over fir branches and alders in the narrow gorge. Vine maples’ small leaves are turning rust, while big leaf maple leaves curl yellow on the edges.
Sandhill cranes have been crying overhead as they pass the island. We watched thousands of Vaux’s Swifts enter a former elementary school’s red-brick chimney to roost. They swirl in loose funnel shapes, almost like a jeweled net, before letting go and slipping into the chimney. A small crowd of dedicated birders and enthusiastic newcomers had gathered to watch. The birds pause for a week or two to refuel on their trip to winter in Central America and Venezuela. In this peak migration season, humans help if we turn off unnecessary outside lights.
I hear that bluebirds in Grayhorse are coming less often to the bird bath, and turkeys are passing through Leaf Mushrush’s yard. Here, we find deep red, yellow and pink dahlia in small stands along the roads. Our apple trees are laden with fruit. Our nephew and his three-year old twins came to help pick the Gravenstein and Rome Beauties. We will dry and freeze some of the fruit. Friends in Missouri are ready to gather persimmons. Ed Smith, my foraging friend, tells me two varieties provide food into February. He will dry and preserve the fruit. I appreciate following the changes through the year, thinking about what our ancestors found and how we still live. The Cowlitz Nation picked huckleberries a few weeks ago; this month the community will forage for mushrooms on Mt. St. Helens.
We have started our Osage language classes. My schedule has changed, upsetting the routine of my previous classes. I had a chance to talk with a talented Eastern Shawnee poet and teacher who lives in Seattle. Laura Dá has studied her Shawnee language intensively for years and is ahead of me in that process. Being committed to the journey has its own challenges, and it was useful to hear the ways it has changed for her over time.
This week the Osage Nation’s language building where many of us studied and/or stopped in to meet with Master Teacher Mogri Lookout when we came to town is being demolished after years of use. It has been years since Ryan Red Corn’s bright straight dancer mural appeared, but it was always good to see it driving into town, announcing this was tribal space.
One of my Osage language teachers told me they appreciated seeing Osage orthography in
Prism, International, a journal from the University of British Columbia that published my poem 𐓇𐓂𐓀𐒻𐒼𐒰𐓒𐒻. I’m not an expert or fluent, but I appreciate the chance to speak our language, to let people witness the work we are doing to preserve it. To let them know we are still here.
For Southern California Osages or other tribal language learners, the Dorothy Ramon Center will hold a language revitalization event Nov. 16 in Palm Desert which includes elders and a new generation of Native language speakers and teachers. Award-winning poet Cassandra López (Tongva/Luiseño and Chicana) will lead a poetry writing workshop for all levels. “Although focused on California languages, it’s is open to anyone working in their Native language,” López said. This is a chance to discuss the challenges of learning and living your language. “Join workshops that share fun, useful, and innovative ways you can incorporate Native language into your life,” the announcement said. For more details https://dorothyramonlearningcenter.substack.com/p/speak-it-live-it-dream-itxx
