Clouds were
naught but tendrils; tossed across an
azure canvas as a Bad Company tune played
grandly in my mind. “…the color of the
sky I’m told.” And Saguaros resigned to
towering pines as the miles whined on beneath our wheels.
Long before
we’d reached our destination, I decided
that the sky, the color of the sky;
that wistful, winter blue, was the reason for the pesky anxious feeling of
impending…well, I had no idea. Then.
But on this
recent quick trip to our favorite mountain town,
we picked up a copy of their regional newspaper and learned some astounding facts. It seems the wooly worms have
spoken in no uncertain terms of the likelihood of a harsh winter ahead. They
are, in fact, parading around without their stripes!
Further
collaboration was offered by the observation of the insect population, which
has taken of late to traversing single file instead of the usual willy-nilly,
non-pattern method. It does seem like ages since I’ve seen a Ladybug, and do
those ant hills look a little higher this year? I hadn’t noticed an increase in
the number or elaborate construction of spider webs, but you can bet I’ll be on
the lookout now!
I was
stunned to realize that I had missed this. Me, the consummate observer, had
missed the signs of winter! Was there some secret code I hadn’t learned? Well
that, and perhaps the close proximity to the Navajo nation, prompted the ponderance
of Code Talking in general and to wonder was it only understood by
plants, animals, insects and Native Americans?
Ans so it
was, quite in keeping with my often unusual mind, I was still thinking of winter and Navajo
customs and legends when the sun could no longer warm my skin through the
trees. In the waning light, I gazed
toward the Mystery Forest from whence strange sounds are routinely reported and
shivered. It wasn’t remarkably cold on the deck where I stood, but it would be
pitch dark soon. And I thought about the
Skinwalkers.
In life as
in legends, Navajos rarely speak of them. If ever. Supposedly, doing so would
bring harm to yourself and your family.
Yet a number of encounters have been reported, though not by the Navajos
themselves.
Skinwalkers
are essentially humans with supernatural powers, as in the ability to transform into any animal or other person they desire to be. Unfortunately—and evidently not always a deterrent,
one must first commit the evil deed of killing a close family member in order
to become a Skinwalker.
This likely
explains why, unlike other tribes, Navajos do not wear animal pelts except for
ceremonial occasions; in which only
sheep or buckskin are worn.
At any rate.
these skinwalking entities are considered extremely evil and therefore, highly
dangerous. Seen always at night and
often near high country backroads, it is
considered prudent to not turn your back on one and to speak the skinwalker’s
full name out loud (if you happen to know it!) in order to dispel its powers
and basically, save yourself.
On a lighter
note, the Navajos have a host of engaging winter games. For instance, a game called “Shoes” or the game of Silence, where
the last child to speak wins.
And of
course, the String games, which are only
played in the winter “when the spider sleeps”, lest a spider sew up your
butt. ( I swear, that’s how the story
goes!)
Are you seeing signs of winter in your area? Have you ever played String games?
