Yesterday ROCKED.
"Power Hour" at Mashkodens:
I touch metal to dirt,
the square head of the shovel semi-inching its way slowly down.
I shove it down in with my foot, jump on the edge to push it harder.
I pull back, lifting the last corner of a square peice of "sod."
I toss the shovel back, and Sarah and I squat down,
pick up the Earth, our bare arms tickled by roots.
We place it on the map of sod squares next to where we're digging.
Near twenty of us: Digging, pulling, lifting Earth.
Jaz runs up. She has three tomahawks in her hand.
"Here we go guys," hollers Ty. "Let's get a group to scout some poles."
I yield my shovel to Ray, anxious to try something new.
Next thing I know, I am running through the forest,
looking for "straight, non-rotten, downed timber."
I find one.
I grasp the tomahawk in my right hand, a branch in my left.
I strip the fallen tree of its arms,
drag the lodge pole back to the trail,
and enter the woods again, a wild and unseparate woman,
wielding my tomahawk.
I touch metal to dirt,
the square head of the shovel semi-inching its way slowly down.
I shove it down in with my foot, jump on the edge to push it harder.
I pull back, lifting the last corner of a square peice of "sod."
I toss the shovel back, and Sarah and I squat down,
pick up the Earth, our bare arms tickled by roots.
We place it on the map of sod squares next to where we're digging.
Near twenty of us: Digging, pulling, lifting Earth.
Jaz runs up. She has three tomahawks in her hand.
"Here we go guys," hollers Ty. "Let's get a group to scout some poles."
I yield my shovel to Ray, anxious to try something new.
Next thing I know, I am running through the forest,
looking for "straight, non-rotten, downed timber."
I find one.
I grasp the tomahawk in my right hand, a branch in my left.
I strip the fallen tree of its arms,
drag the lodge pole back to the trail,
and enter the woods again, a wild and unseparate woman,
wielding my tomahawk.
PHOTO ABOVE: a gray-jay's view of the wigwams at Mashkodens. The huge pile of dirt is where we are constructing the Earth Lodge.
Today we also celebrated the naming ceremony of five-year-old Diindiis (which sounds like "Dindees" and means "Blue Jay"). Which means: Feast! Venison, pheasant, smoked fish--I tried the pheasant, it was pretty darn good--and then steamed veggies (including squash and pumpkin today!! YUM), a HUGE salad with everything one could want, wild rice, sourkraut, and, best of all, a delicious apple crispy thing for dessert. The ceremony included an offering (by the elder, Mani, and Diindiis) of tobacco, (kinickinck) as well as an Ancestor Dish, placed on Birch Bark, which must be burned in honor of the spirits before any food can be served, a blessing in Ojibwe, and many stories and wisdoms. We also sent or made Diindiis a gift--I could only think to make him an origami crane. There were many beautiful rocks, arrowheads, feathers, furs, leather straps, etc. which he also received--and most importantly, a beautiful Eagle feather. A very special honor. And an honor to have been a part of the circle today! 
PHOTO: Diindiis and Cedar, climbing around in the woods. They are both avid tree climbers.
