Mother's Day, Mothers, Wool Gathering...

wool·gath·er·ing

[wool-gath-er-ing] 

–verb

1.think about seriously.

2.gathering  of the tufts of wool  shed by sheep and caught on bushes.

Synonyms: brood over, chaw, consider, contemplate, delay, deliberate, examine, figure, hammer away at, linger, meditate, moon*, muse on, ponder, pore over, procrastinate, rack one's brains, reflect, review, revolve, ruminate, stew over, study, sweat over, think over, turn over, weigh.

Antononyms: ignore, neglect

 

woolgathering. (n.d.). Roget's 21st Century Thesaurus, Third Edition. Retrieved May 22, 2011, from Thesaurus.com website: http://thesaurus.com/browse/woolgathering

  
Mother's Day*... what does it mean to you? The word Mother is "loaded" anyway. Ask anyone what the word mother means to them, and you are off on a very long, involved, maybe even Freudian adventure.

In my New Hampshire farm days, Mother's Day weekend was a busy one. Because I had sheep, was a shepherd and sold my wool to other hand spinners, Mother's Day meant going to the Sheep & Wool Show in New Boston, NH. There in an outside horse stall, I would- for two days, sell my wool to new and returning customers. My children's dad would help me unload, set up, then drive back to the farm to do the chores. I would be busy greeting and visiting with people until half the day was over. 

Sometimes my Mom would drive up from Massachusetts and stay overnight. Sunday we would have a Mom's Day breakfast, then back to the Sheep and Wool festival, where we would celebrate with a lamb kebab, and good conversations with friends. It was a good life.

Now things are a lot different. I live 2,000 miles away from New England. But that doesn't mean I don't celebrate Mother's Day... I went wool-gathering...

...buffalo wool gathering!


At Custer State Park the buffalo are shedding their wool- and dropping babies!







 It is so nice, after a decade, to finally becoming attuned again to the rhythm again of the seasons.

 the buffalo are itchy now...

...VERY itchy!


















 Babies

 and mothers...

are EVERYWHERE!






...and so is their wool.

on every tree, rock, and wallow-

lots of it!
















As I drove through Custer State Park, I was reminded of how beautiful is the natural world out here.

How harsh...

 ...and sometimes tragic.










Still, this day for me was about life, growth, renewal, down-gathering and beautiful scenery...

 

 

 













Mother's Day itself was beautiful, too...

...the plum blossoms were everywhere- their heady scent the promise of future fruit- in abundance.

On Mother's Day Sunday, JhonDuane's family had a Mother's Day barbeque. Before the meal we went out to the buffalo pasture, where we practiced 'deadly force!


My bullet hole was the second one down from the top (middle).

I thought that was pretty good for a beginner.

But- where you see the double holes, is where Jhon shot through his first hole-- on PURPOSE!

Pretty danged amazing, I'd say!






The horse herd looked pretty bored with the whole thing, though...

 After that, it was definitely TIME TO EAT!

...home-cooked, and DELISH!

 Of course, besides the Moms, there were babies, too...

...and kids...









...and Uncles, Dads, Grampas, Aunties, Grammas, Nephews, Nieces.

It was a  wonderful South Dakota Mother's Day- full of love and sharing!

...My children...

Bryn and Hilary--

weren't there, but- as always-

are in my heart.

My Mom with my grandchildren (Bryn and Carrie's sons)

Great-Grandmother Barb
and Oliver

 

Great Grandmother Barb
and Elliott

...and Elliott & me!

* Mother's Day Proclamation

Julia Ward Howe was one of the early calls to celebrate Mother's Day in the United States. Written in 1870, Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation was a pacifist reaction to the carnage of the American Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War. The Proclamation was tied to Howe's feminist belief that women had a responsibility to shape their societies at the political level.

In the years after the Mother's Day Proclamation, Ann Jarvis founded five Mothers' Day Work Clubs to improve sanitary and health conditions.

In 1907, two years after Ann Jarvis' death, her daughter Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother and began a campaign to make "Mother's Day" a recognized holiday in the US. Although she was successful in 1914, she was already disappointed with its commercialization by the 1920s.

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A Winter's Tale

It has been a cold and snowy winter. It has been the most snow over the longest period of time since I arrived here in 2006. Not once have we had a day warm and snow-free enough to even go rock hunting. I have to admit that I've had wicked bad "cabin fever." I don't even have my snowshoes or cross country skis with me to enjoy the snow. 

So when the weather broke this past Saturday, I was ready to go anywhere and do anything. JhonDuane must have felt that way too, because when he Skyped me, it didn't take much to persuade him to take the day and have some fun. So, after stocking up on picnic items I headed south to Pine Ridge.

The road down was still pretty snowy from the week's storms. But by the time I arrived in Pine Ridge, the day had really warmed up. Jhon suggested that we head to Nebraska to visit the old Spotted Tail Agency...that sounded good to me! So after I visited with his Mom, we jumped in my car and started. The day was lovely and so was the scenery along the way. After a 45 minute ride, we pulled over to the side of the road, where a simple sign announced the place.

There was no sound but that of the breeze rattling the grasses and the trees. The late February sun was warm enough for just light jackets.

Armed only with cameras we moved quickly away from the road. The snow was soft as butter as we made our way deeper into the site.

Within a few steps we saw large areas where the earth had been greatly disturbed a long time ago.

There had been a large scrape in the earth- to accommodate a reservoir of water- mute testimony to the large population it had been designed to serve...

We proceeded over the burm that sluiced the excess water, and climbed up the dam.

Beautiful and calm, pristine and utterly quiet, in stopping to listen I couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more present than the eye could see. Below the silence, there was a disquiet that was impossible to dispel.

Suddenly, a sunny, light-hearted day seemed much darker.

It was, after all, into this place that, with the disappearance of the buffalo, Crazy Horse (Tȟašúŋke Witkó) had brought his hungry people in 1877.

Later, I asked JhonDuane why was the land so open in the above photo? He simply answered me- is it surprising, when so many people were living permanently in such density?

The US, in its infinite wisdom, relocated large numbers of people on such a very  fragile landscape, with devastating impact- to land and people  alike.

 

The Lakota were a nomadic people, and watched carefully their surroundings, and would move on when the area showed signs of stress.

They lived in balance and respect for their surroundings. The reason for this is very simple, and really a "no-brainer"... if you want the resources to be available next year when you come, don't trash them this year!

 Jhon remarked that it was good to see the trees and plants have grown back.

I thought to myself- Nature, at least- has recovered.

We made our way back to the car, and continued South. On the way we stopped to photograph the local population, who in turn- wondered what those crazy tourists were staring at!

We stopped for a picnic lunch at a sunny little park in Hay Scales. The burritos, chips, guacamole and green tea just hit the spot as we tailgated and pondered Lakota history.

(Click to read the sign)

After this pleasant break, the sun was getting low in the sky. The air was noticeably chilling. Reluctantly, we packed up and headed back north, towards the pass back to Pine Ridge.

The day had a few serendipitous surprises left, however. Magic hour was upon us as we approached the pass. The land turned into an Impressionistic visual feast... and we- the lucky recipients...'Beauty was all around us.

How Can I Keep from Singing, Enya Shepherd's Moon

..."In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?"

Looking around me, I thought about what I had seen today...what those scrapes in the ground represented. The place had been prepared as a "holding pen" for people who were deemed dangerous to the American notion of Manifest Destiny. The German Führer Hitler would take this unconscionable American "solution" of "removing" unwanted people, to deadly and heinous culmination several generations later- with horrific results.

A whole way of life- one beautiful, full of purpose and with virtually no "footprint" to mar the land- nearly wiped out by the hubris of a European- based society, too shallow and ego-centric to see merit in cultures other than their own. Only the Lakota resilience to shoulder adversity and continue to go forward has helped them to survive and express their rich culture into the 21st century. The regeneration of the Land gave me hope that the People of this land will somehow do the same.

...and so the evening descended. We made our way back to the small house in the beautiful little valley. In the cozy warm kitchen, we devoured the most delicious spicy bean soup! A fitting meal to complete a wonder-filled day.

After a wonderful evening, it was time to call it a day. Thanks conveyed and a happy goodnight said, my little war pony carried me safely back North, through a night filled with a million, million stars, glistening in the universe, lighting my way.