"Wrappers of blue fabric, what is left of it anyhow, hides a mysterious bundle. One eagle feather is stuck inside the hole of a gnarly piece of driftwood bleached as white as a cows skull. I see where somebody carved a few notches. I'm wonderin what it means. This page is dirty that I write upon with red stained dirt. Off a ways is another mound. The water force erodes it to the point where I see a rainbow of faint color. Yellows pale as a yellow rose of Texas and a purple paler than that ghost I thought I saw once. There are many shades of peach color interspersed in these here striations. Yesterday when I found that strange object I was thinking about the Hopi and the Kachina dolls I saw at the post that day I bought the blanket. It seems to me that these are some sort of token figures used by a medicine man or something. A tiny pot was wrapped up with the eagle feather objects which held something gritty and shiny like glass. The pot is polished on the outside with evidence of being in a fire cause of the smoke-like marks I see.
Lately, it seems I find little bundles in every mound. I find stitching on most of the pieces, you know like in and out and in and out and all in straight lines about half an inch apart. It seems the stitches are from human hair. I found some bee balm the other day being harvested by a chaco canyon native. She showed me that she painted marks on the pots with it dipped in something. I know not what it was. I think I will bring some things to give them next time. I was thinking some cotton thread would be nice."
I found a house, once a long time ago, it was Victorian in style, very grand but falling down. Out in the back was a trunk in which I found old envelopes with the letters still inside. These were a bit worn and some places unreadable. The pandemic that hit the country was written down along with other incidents that were pertinent at the time. This experience has always fueled my imagination. I was a child, then, on an expedition that day, a forbidden expedition, to say the least, for which I paid dearly. I can say for sure that it was worth the trouble.
xoxo,
Just a bird
Lately, it seems I find little bundles in every mound. I find stitching on most of the pieces, you know like in and out and in and out and all in straight lines about half an inch apart. It seems the stitches are from human hair. I found some bee balm the other day being harvested by a chaco canyon native. She showed me that she painted marks on the pots with it dipped in something. I know not what it was. I think I will bring some things to give them next time. I was thinking some cotton thread would be nice."
I found a house, once a long time ago, it was Victorian in style, very grand but falling down. Out in the back was a trunk in which I found old envelopes with the letters still inside. These were a bit worn and some places unreadable. The pandemic that hit the country was written down along with other incidents that were pertinent at the time. This experience has always fueled my imagination. I was a child, then, on an expedition that day, a forbidden expedition, to say the least, for which I paid dearly. I can say for sure that it was worth the trouble.
xoxo,
Just a bird
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