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Posts Tagged ‘Culture’


several maple trees tapped with buckets

In my zeal to tap Maple Sugar Trees

I did not look up high to see

this one was dead.

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March is a month of many transitions so it has a few Anishinabe names to describe these. There is:

Ăn·dĕ´gō·gē´zĭs, or Crow Moon. Not that Crows migrate, but they fly around the area more. Perhaps because the warmer weather during March days melts the snow and the crows search to eat the preserved bodies of various animals which the melting snow reveals. (Hence my Haiku yesterday 🙂 )

crow moon
Also

Canadian Goose Moon

Nĭ·kĭ´gē´zĭs, or Canadian Goose Moon. This is the time of the year when the Canadian Geese start migrating back north if the weather is favorable.

There is also  Ō´nă·bă·nĭ·gē´zĭs or Hard Crusted Snow Moon. With warmer weather during the days, the snow melts and then freezes again at night, causing its surface to develop a hard crust. Sometimes, during the day, it is just warm enough for there to be sleet that freezes when it hits the frozen snow on the earth.

and,

Bĕ·bū·kwĕ´daa·gĭ·mĕ-gē´zĭs, the Snowshoe Breaking Moon; Because of the hard crust, it is easier to break your snowshoes when walking on this type of snow.

or,

Zēn·sĭ·baa·kwăd´ōkē´gē´zĭs, or, Maple Sugar Making Moon. Warm days and chilly nights are the best kind of weather for Maple Sugaring as the sap flows best in these circumstances.

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Ice water droplet

 

from a Maple Sugar tap

 

Its rainbow shimmers

 

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I look around,
and he is gone.
 
Before we can part,
he’s disappeared.
 
Saying “Good-bye”,
is just too awkward for him.

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If they weren’t so different,

you’d not be attracted.
 
If they weren’t a challenge,

you’d not be interested.
 
If they weren’t so incomprehensible,

you’d not be intrigued.
 
If they weren’t amenable,

you couldn’t stay.

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White Sucker Fish

Namebin

Thank you for spawning later this month

and feeding my people.

 

We will find you in the depths of the creeks

as dark shadows at night

as our lights and spears pierce the water.

 

You came and kept us from starving in the past,

and we are grateful.

 

_________________

Nă·mĕ·bĭ·nē  Gē·zĭs: Sucker Fish Moon / February

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Oh Great Nanabozhu,

What lesson do you have for me today?


“Wait…


Wait.”

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Snug underneath Christmas Quilts
and warmed by memory foam,
I hearken back to a time when I could see my breath
while trying to sleep
in the attic of an old tar paper shack.

And even further back
when forebears snuggled under
robes of deer, bear, and beaver.

The rancher’s guns start going off at 11:55
sounding like thunder
when the clock hits 12 midnight.

Ironically,
I actually hear a war cry;
No doubt coming from a Missouri rebel.

Before I know it
I am sandwiched between my woman
and the dog who has crept up on the bed
to hide with us, from the storm.

At 12:05, all is quiet again.

We old folks roll over
and go back to sleep.

*Abita Biboon!

_________________

* Happy New Year!

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Awakened by a dream of having to re-certify my ability to dive over obstacles into spiritually pure but impossibly shallow water and,

unable to sleep, I step outside to a forest carpeted and festooned in preternatural white.

The distant, dim, pale light of one neighbor’s horse barn in front and another neighbor’s porch on the side, glimmer feebly through the fog shrouded, dark and indistinct trunks of trees.

There is no sign of the full moon in a cloudy and invisible sky. Neither can be seen through the oaken canopy but the moon somehow softly illuminates the landscape with a sourceless light.

The door mat is surprisingly not cold to my unshod feet this winter night.

No frosty breath escapes my lips.

And though there is no wind, I hear the sound of its rushing lonesome random modulation shoooooing sourcelessly,
oceanically.
 

Is this Gehenna? Am I in Limbo?

 

I’m tired now.  Not a little time has passed. I’ll return to bed.

To sleep, perchance to dream”.

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Nanabozhu,

will you give me a rock,

or a present

for Christmas this year?

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