Mother Earth

For many years the Navajo people we know have been trying to educate us to the ways of Mother Earth. Mother Earth is also known as Changing Woman because of her ability to be reborn in the spring, age gradually throughout the year and pass on in the winter; a cycle which is repeated each year. This kind and concerned deity has been watching out for her people since they first came into this world. It is not that we are unfamiliar with Mother Earth; as kids we were in constant contact with her. Just after school was out for the summer each year, our mother would shave our heads and turn us loose to rampage around the town of Bluff. We would immediately lose our shoes in order to rebuild the thick callouses on the bottom of our feet, which were necessary to navigate the rough terrain. Summer was a time to search out and explore all aspects of our surroundings; very few things were left uninspected. Craig, Steve and I were the masters of our small universe. We dug forts deep into the red earth, lay in the cool, moist sand under shaded culverts and scaled the great cliffs which give Bluff its name. It was an idyllic childhood, one which offered much freedom and independence. To this day, when I stroll through Bluff, I often come across things that for one reason or another open a window to the past. It is as if, for a moment, I return to that time and become one of three out of control young boys exploding onto the scene.

Spring Flowers around Bluff, UT and Twin Rocks Trading Post.

Today's thoughts arise from a brief thunder storm which struck Bluff. Steve and I were working at straightening up the trading post for the day when the rain began. Steve is Mr. Clean, and gets wound up easily when the dust gets thick and fingerprints obscure the view into the jewelry cases. I am Hasteen Casually Cluttered, and am not easily offended by a messy desk or unorganized back counter. We each do our best to accept the idiosyncrasies of the other and work together to get the job done. As the thunderstorm erupted, I walked out onto the steps just outside of the front doors to enjoy the freshness of the rain. The smell of moist earth and the static electricity in the air captured my attention. As I absorbed the scene with all of my senses, I noticed a car pull up in front of the cafe next door. Out jumped Leslie Keith, a pretty young woman in a nurse's uniform. She flashed a bright smile, waved and disappeared into the cafe. I turned to look through the wet leaves of the cottonwood trees towards the old Bluff City Trading Post. I could just see a small part of it through the driving rain and swaying branches. In an instant I was transported back almost 30 years to a similarly rainy day.

Spring Flowers around Bluff, UT and Twin Rocks Trading Post.

I had just completed my daily chores of cleaning the glass, sweeping the concrete floors, and straightening up the displays of Bluff City Trading Post when it began to rain hard. I ran that small store with the help of my sister, Susan. We alternated opening in the mornings, and worked together in the afternoons and evenings. I remember being very proud of myself for doing such a good job at maintaining the spotless standard Susan demanded. As I admired my domestic skills, and worried about setting a high standard for future projects, I heard a vehicle drive into the parking lot. I walked to the open door and recognized Archie Jones with a small group of his many children piling out of their old white Ford pickup truck. Archie was a bit of an antique at that point; tall, thin and stooped, with a dozen or so quarter inch white whiskers sprouting from his bony chin. He always smelled of rich red earth and juniper smoke, not an unpleasant perfume once it became familiar. Archie was a real character; with a bright happy smile and a gleam in his large, sleepy brown eyes. It was rumored that Archie had three wives, and a boat-load of kids. I know that he was always short of cash, which is why he visited us. We ran a small pawn business and loaned money on his personal jewelry. Archie's word was good as gold, so we never hesitated to provide him money to hold him over until his next check arrived.

The family literally flooded into my newly scrubbed and mopped establishment, shaking the rain from their clothing and tracking mud inside the store. I gave them a frustrated look and realized that I would not have to worry about what I would be re-doing for the next few hours. Archie noticed my consternation, and shrugged it off with a smile. The fact that moisture had come to our mostly dry climate was too important to let small matters interfere with his good mood. I guess he thought an explanation was in order however because he walked up to me and began explaining. Archie spoke very little English, and my Navajo was, at best, inadequate. No matter, his young daughter Leslie stepped forward, as if on cue, and began to interpret her father's words. His nearness of presence, aromatic scent, sincere look and tone of voice demanded my attention. I could tell by his attitude that he wanted me to understand what he was saying; that it meant a great deal to him to share his message. He touched his weather worn face and said, "My skin is red like the earth. I was born through her; she is my mother." I stood there listening intently, looking at his animated face and wondering at what he was saying. He continued, "All good things come from her. Be good to her, and she will be good to you." Leslie interpreted. His message, spoken through a shy child's soft voice had a definite effect on me. It made me want to know more. Archie stepped back seemingly satisfied that he had made his point. We finished his pawn transaction and they exited into the storm. My mind switched back to the present; from the fragrance of Archie to the fragrance of the falling rain and the electric energy of the lightning.

Mine has been an interesting journey into the traditions and culture of the Navajo people. I find their messages as motivating and thoughtful as many other belief systems I have come to know. Theirs is a unique perspective on the world; their eyes see the earth through a different lens, and their hearts feel different emotions. The old view which requires treating the earth as a living. breathing and giving entity has great merit. Respect for the natural world is vital for its survival, and for ours. I know that when I am in close contact with the Earth, I feel more at ease and draw strength from her natural beauty. So, if you find a little red dirt sifting out of the packages you receive from us don't be disturbed - we are simply sharing with you the secret to our quiet, calm, genteel world; the secret of Mother Earth.

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