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| Overlooking The Canadian Overlooking the riverbed on a grassy knoll I�d found. Dry and windy and unprotected save for a few mesquite. Short curly native grasses where deer sometimes grazed. Things growing small but strong under the summer heat. Miles away from the alibates across the canyons banks. A scattered pile of flint chips uncovered by the rain. I scratched around and found more of an ancient tribal site. Chips from arrow heads and spear to be used over again. The stone is rare but found here in abundance. Tribes traveled from other states to make their weapons points. They made scrapers and knives to carry home with them. Some were for their own use others used like coins. Heavy laden horses carried leather pouches full. Shards of flint followed the herds of buffalo. New Mexico to Louisiana, south Texas to further north, Oklahoma and Kansas and Arkansas down below. I knelt to touch the cold stone chips thinking of the past. I saw the old man chipping as he sat on the ground. At his side a pile of points so perfect in every way. Gnarled, callused hands at work as he continued to pound. Some were bird points, some made for hunting game. Some were ceremonial gifts offered to the spirit. I watched the dogs run by with children, camp far away. There carried by the wind were more as I could hear it. The canyon rim too windy, camp was in a cove. Protected from the winds coming down the Canadian Teepees in the fortress, high bluffs on three sides. So there you have the story, seen from Bugby Canyon. Vision Quest <-.-> <o.o> � 2002 T Lovett |
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