Visiting my family in Cundiyo, NM, I went for a walk to their property's edge. I stood at the edge of a steep ridge, with a view, money could not buy. The rhythmic tune of the cool autumn breeze, made my greying hair dance upon my ear, as it tickled my forehead. The face of adjacent slopes, shown deep grooves, reminiscent of the beautiful, wrinkled leather face, of an ancient, medicine man.
The brittle, woody skeleton of an old chamiso (sagebrush) bush came into view, and I thought of the infinite, dazzling New Mexico sunsets and sunrises it had felt, when it's powerful, pungent leaves bristled in the wind. And how this shell, once rested there without complaint, till it succumbed to the elements. I pondered the endless, dark, starry nights that had graced the landscape. I thought of centuries before, when my Native ancestors (whether related or not) walked the same hills and I wondered if they ever dreamed their once proud existence would be reduced to less than a memory. Had they admired this same, ancient landscape where I now stood? Had they smelled the very descendants of the chamiso bush I now held in my hand? Had the fragrant scent mesmerized them as readily as it had, me? Will another person, not to be born for another hundred years, stand in my own footsteps and ponder the same? No matter! The beauty I see today, will endure, the sunsets will capture the hearts of men, the starry nights will never end. And the beauty of that dried up chamiso will forever rest in my spirit. And it's smell will never leave my mind. And the beauty of my ancestors, though forgotten, will forever be magnificent to the eye and magical to the heart. Live forever Great Spirit, I will see you again!
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