May 5, 2015
Reverence for nature. That’s what captivates me most about the lifestyle of the American Indians.
This excerpt from Chief Seattle’s letter written to the president in 1852 captures that reverence:
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore,
every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the
memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses
through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are
our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests,
the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.
These eloquent words speak to my soul like a kindred spirit.
To consider myself, as Chief Seattle penned, a sister to the perfumed flowers. . .
and a brother to the esteemed animals, makes me, a nature lover, feel extraordinarily spectacular.
‘We are part of the Earth and it is part of us’, he wrote. After Saturday’s trembling from a rare, in these parts, earthquake, I felt my connectedness to Earth in a new way.
Since there was no injury, I found it a pleasant experience like a hearty handshake from an old friend.
Not so long ago, the Potawatomi tribe of Indians walked the same trails as I. When this farm was built, in 1865, there was a settlement across the meadow, under the whispering pines.
Sleep does not come easy for me this time of year; not because I am unable, but because it is difficult to let go of the beauty of spring even for a few hours rest. While the household sits quiet, I rock on the porch, listen to the trills and peeps of the frogs, and imagine Potawatomi chants drifting across the prairie.
Blossom and be like your sisters, sing and be like your brothers– you are beautiful!