Sweet Grass Sundays

The Mesa Storytelling Festival was a brilliant gathering this year, as always…but a funny thing happened on my way home.

Instead of turning right where I normally would, I stayed the course until I heard the sounds of drums and laughter.

The drum circles were magnificent.

So many people traveled so far…yet it is the unnoticed events such as these that so very often occur in our own backyards.

This time it was not I who was paying attention. The universe just reached out, reminded me of places I had been, and gently asked me to stop and pay my respect.

Unplanned stops are often the start of a great adventure.

My daughter held my hand and I told her the story of her great grandmother. I explained to her the significance of the word regalia and that the representations of one’s culture, family, and spiritual quest are beautifully unique for each and every dancer.

She had listened to the sounds of similar drumming coming from my office as I put her youngest brother to sleep at night. It was even her idea to put stars into the night sky. Now it had a context. We smiled together and watched with wonder, with awe, with respect.

We ate fry bread with honey and powdered sugar.

She chose a bracelet that was beautiful like her. I chose some sage and an abalone shell.

There was no sweet grass to be found.

Do you have any for me?