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>Oh, First Loves, Wonderful memories > And the Roasted Mutton smells good too.B-) > > >>The Friday before leaving for Europe we went >>camping.off the cliffs one or two miles from BIA >>144.The road into the place is alright ..for a little >>while...then it turns into a wagon road,the problem's >>that there are no wagons going over it ,for many >>years now,so in reality there is no road..just a >>truck turning west ,going towards where the old Ramah >>post used to be.There's nothing there either...just >>and old red pump and the well,open faced and >>dangerous,deep and quiet.From there you make your own >>road as you go. That requires to get out of the car >>and move dead wood, and rocks and other things that >>stop you from going. Even in the middle of the hot >>day the place is sort of dark and mysterious. Three >>or four abandon sheep camps, I house, with a whole in >>the west wall,abandoned,other ruins and overgrown >>vegetation. As we gain altitude the scenery >>changes....more pinions...taller cedars and finally >>the tall ponderosas pines.we're in the summit >>now...to the right about a quarter of a mile to my >>left there's a canyon. At five in the evening >>darkness starts to gain terrain. Now and then a little >>patch of the sun, going down in the west ,filters >>thru the pines bought. >>Curt diggs a hole in the soft ground,then goes >>looking for rocks to make a fire circle,The ground >>smells of moisture ,carpets of pine needles cover the >>ground. In hands and knees he cleans a big area so it >>will no be no danger of the fire spreading.There's >>firewood all over,it requieres no effort to gather >>it, It doesn't look like nobody has been in the place >>for ages.When we were little we used to come here all >>the time. ...There's where my grandfather hearded his >>sheep in summer,There was a hogan by the edge of the >>canyon and some tree trunks put together,the wider >>planks on the bottom ,the thinner ones in the top >>forming some kind of tippi. as children Curt and I >>loved to play in there. >>Now all is gone ,no one comes to this place anymore. >>It gets darker and there's no moon yet.The only light >>comes from the fire,Curtis drops a quilt on the >>ground and lays on it by the fire. I'm roasting some >>mutton and he constantly gives me instructions of how >>to do it. >>After we eat I go into my station wagon and lay >>quietly. The wind pick up for a little while and then >>all is silence. From far away a grinding noise is >>heard...windmill #11 sails,always sounding as if >>they're going to come off. I close my eyes and let >>time go back in my mind.I was fifteen and he was about >>seventeen...we met under windmill #11 sails. He had >>long hair and dark eyes,so dark that when he smiled >>all you could see was two slits of light.He smiled >>nice too. and spoke real soft....His name was Franklin >>and he belong to the Nakai'i clan..his other clans I >>don't remember..but the Nakai'i was taboo...He said >>he loved me once..but it was wrong as I was his clan >>sister.... >>He had dark eyes and long hair and a sweet smile..and >>when I was fifteen he kissed my cheek under windmill >>11 sails. >> >>What are you thinking about Moon ? Curt asks. >> >>Just about the old times ..I answer him... >> >>Mai'i starts to sing over the canyon rim...Good night >>grandmother...good night grandmother ....goodnight >>Franklin.
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