We drop him off at the Taos library, get coffee at a cofee shop, and look around. It is a beautiful day — a beautiful day for the 29th annual Taos Pueblo Pow-Wow!
A couple of muffins later we are at the admissions gate. The sky is deep blue above us and the gathering crowd of early arrivers.
|Warrior or Dancer?|
The drums beat a steady rhythm.
"The drum is the heartbeat of the Earth," the announcer says. "The mountains, streams, forests and trees, all of nature are her Bible."
The drumming rises into the air above the crowd from a half-dozen drum circles, groups of five or six men sitting around one large drum, pounding in unison. Later the drummers will sing, traditional pueblo songs, in high rhythmic voice for the competition.
|Two dancers confer|
|The grand entrance begins|
|Dancers carry numbers|
|Color guard and entrance into pavilion|
There is a magic to the dancing it seems to be. As the afternoon builds so do massing clouds in what had been a clear blue heaven. The power of dance?
|Younger dancers ...|
|... embrace and expand on tradition|
|With the closing of the dancing, dark clouds amass and soon the rain begins|
We drive back the next day. In the rain the mountains glisten. Fir trees are likes Christmas trees with light reflecting water drops as ornaments. The land is timeless and tired. Ranches are struggling. Condominiums on the slopes are out of place.
I remember the dancers. Old ways, new ways collide in eternal regeneration.