has always been a custom but never called that except in the poignant scene in an old movie "Beyond Thunderdome". This scene shows Mad Max being saved by a group of children, survivors of a plane crash living in a desert oasis. The memories were kept by having a nightly "tell" of what they 'membered from their past and what was to come in the future. The adults left to get help and never returned. Savannah said they must 'member and began the tradition of "tells" each night so no one would forget how they came to be.
This scene stuck with me through the years, in my opinion, the only really memorable part of this movie. I saw the similarities to the tales of elders of all nationalities and tribes who pass down stories and keep them alive by "tells" to the children.
Myths, legends and truths are passed down this way so we can 'member. The past is important to help us with our future. We must continue our "tells" to assure our children and their children know from whence they came...and in those grains of truth may they find what they need to secure a future in this ever changing world.
With only a promise of rain the ground dries quickly in the summer temperatures we have now. I hear thunder but only see drops of rain. I know this is normal but the unusually cool temperatures have spoiled me.
Signs of fall are already showing with the lack of rain. The ponds no longer run over and the creek moves slowly.
Leaving my shoes behind...why doesn't that surprise you? I followed the dogs as they stirred up the creek. I like to be barefooted. I may sound crazy but it seems like I can feel the Earth's pulse through the soles of my feet.
I go where I always go in my mind when I view this valley. I rewind at least two hundred years and maybe two thousand plus. I view the gift of the valley with ancient eyes.
My feet are refreshed as my body seems more balanced.
I like to see the valley like it once was and is now. Elderberries grow along the creek teeming with crawdads, either would be an easy meal if I wanted. I imagine natives gathering food and hear the laughter of children in the creek of summer.
The Ironweed grows tall and is almost ready to harvest. The natives used this plant as a pain killer. I admire the beauty and wish I knew the purpose of all the plants. I'm positive the Creator made them all useful.
My feet tell me I am grounded
as I dig my toes deep into the sand.
I empty my pockets and leave chips I've found from past residents. I put on my shoes but do not lose my connection with the land. May I leave it better than I found it. May the land always nourish and protect us. I turn toward home and glance at the sky holding sounds of distant thunder. I begin to pray for rain.