It has been a while since I have written but, this evening won't let me lie until I spill myself into this blog.
Yesterday I went with a group from the Smoki Museum, of which I am a volunteer, to the Hopi Lands.
We were honored once again being led by our guide the very talented Filmer Keywanyama. He is of the Hopi culture and a very gentle and generous man.
This trip was different, at least for me as I can not speak for the others. Touching and awing in my chest.
The Katsinas came down from their great mountain yesterday (the San Francisco peaks) wearing their beautiful colors and bringing gifts for the families and children even the paler visitors were not missed in their generosity.
Corn Boy and Tsetsipa danced for us singing and humming until you could feel it in your own feet and throat, nearly wishing to dance in their way.
The villages were full and bundles of families gathered from other mesas and villages to share in the joy, to give "Thanks" and honor the katsinas with respect.
Women dressed in traditional garb emanating their culture and particular beauty. They invited us into their homes to share food and celebration and smiles and laughter. Patient to our inquisitive and curious gratefulness.
Mutton and hominy, fry bread and homemade pies, our bellies were full, our minds still hanging onto the sacredness of the day.
But, at the end, riding along in the dark, mostly quiet, as our hearts flowed over with gratitude.
(the photo was taken on the last trip to Hopi, photos are not permitted but, we were given permission to take a few at prophecy rock, this is an offering that was left there)
