[permaculture] Gray Mountain, Navajo storyteller
2 views
Skip to first unread message
Lawrence London
Aug 22, 2024, 6:58:14 PM8/22/24
to permaculture
The
year was 1948. The sun dipped below the mesas, casting long shadows
across the Navajo reservation. Huddled around a crackling fire, a group
of wide-eyed children sat enthralled. In their midst, bathed in the warm
glow of the flames, sat Gray Mountain, a wizened figure of 91 years.
His face, etched with the stories of a long life, held a twinkling
mischief as he addressed his young audience.
"Tonight," he boomed, his voice surprisingly strong for his age, "we travel back to the time of the Changing Woman!"
The children gasped, a collective shiver running through them. The Changing Woman, Hishch'eii Yin'a'at'aah, was a revered figure in Navajo legends, a weaver of worlds and protector of her people. Gray Mountain chuckled, the sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind.
"Don't worry, little ones," he reassured them. "Her stories are not of fear, but of resilience and hope."
He launched into a captivating tale. He spoke of the harsh and unforgiving land, how the Changing Woman, with her magical loom, weaved mountains and valleys, rivers and canyons, creating a home for the Navajo people. He described the mischievous Twin Heroes, Monster Slayer and Born-for-Water, who battled fearsome creatures and brought balance to the world.
His voice, at times booming, other times dropping to a hushed whisper, painted vivid pictures in the children's minds. They saw the shimmering turquoise waters of Spider Rock, a testament to the Changing Woman's weaving. They felt the tremor of the earth as Monster Slayer battled the fearsome yei'i bich'ii' (giant).
But Gray Mountain wasn't just weaving tales of the past. He subtly wove in lessons for the present. When he spoke of the hardships faced by the early Navajo, the children understood the struggles their own families faced. When he described the ingenuity of the Twin Heroes, they saw the importance of perseverance.
As the fire died down to embers, Gray Mountain finished his story. The children, faces flushed with excitement and a newfound wisdom, sat in thoughtful silence. A young girl, no older than eight, finally broke the quiet.
"Gray Mountain," she asked, her voice small but determined, "will the Changing Woman weave a new world for us too?"
Gray Mountain smiled, a warmth crinkling the corners of his eyes. "The Changing Woman's loom is always weaving, little one," he said. "But the threads come from all of us. It's up to you, the future storytellers, to decide what patterns to create."
The photograph, captured by Leonard James McCombe in 1948, wasn't just a picture of a storyteller and his audience. It was a bridge between generations, a testament to the enduring power of storytelling. It was a reminder that while the world may change, the spirit of the Navajo people, their connection to their land and legends, would forever be passed down, thread by thread, story by story
--
"Tonight," he boomed, his voice surprisingly strong for his age, "we travel back to the time of the Changing Woman!"
The children gasped, a collective shiver running through them. The Changing Woman, Hishch'eii Yin'a'at'aah, was a revered figure in Navajo legends, a weaver of worlds and protector of her people. Gray Mountain chuckled, the sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind.
"Don't worry, little ones," he reassured them. "Her stories are not of fear, but of resilience and hope."
He launched into a captivating tale. He spoke of the harsh and unforgiving land, how the Changing Woman, with her magical loom, weaved mountains and valleys, rivers and canyons, creating a home for the Navajo people. He described the mischievous Twin Heroes, Monster Slayer and Born-for-Water, who battled fearsome creatures and brought balance to the world.
His voice, at times booming, other times dropping to a hushed whisper, painted vivid pictures in the children's minds. They saw the shimmering turquoise waters of Spider Rock, a testament to the Changing Woman's weaving. They felt the tremor of the earth as Monster Slayer battled the fearsome yei'i bich'ii' (giant).
But Gray Mountain wasn't just weaving tales of the past. He subtly wove in lessons for the present. When he spoke of the hardships faced by the early Navajo, the children understood the struggles their own families faced. When he described the ingenuity of the Twin Heroes, they saw the importance of perseverance.
As the fire died down to embers, Gray Mountain finished his story. The children, faces flushed with excitement and a newfound wisdom, sat in thoughtful silence. A young girl, no older than eight, finally broke the quiet.
"Gray Mountain," she asked, her voice small but determined, "will the Changing Woman weave a new world for us too?"
Gray Mountain smiled, a warmth crinkling the corners of his eyes. "The Changing Woman's loom is always weaving, little one," he said. "But the threads come from all of us. It's up to you, the future storytellers, to decide what patterns to create."
The photograph, captured by Leonard James McCombe in 1948, wasn't just a picture of a storyteller and his audience. It was a bridge between generations, a testament to the enduring power of storytelling. It was a reminder that while the world may change, the spirit of the Navajo people, their connection to their land and legends, would forever be passed down, thread by thread, story by story
Reply all
Reply to author
Forward
0 new messages