This post is a crumb of a story in which I have the
audacity to make reference to what - for example - Robert Bringhurst
describes as a major classical literature
To quote directly from his
Introduction to Raven Travelling: Page One
'In
Haida, what we have is nothing less than a major classical literature—one which
would be admired worldwide if it were freed from the deadly combination of
critical neglect and uncritical awe with which outsiders often respond to
Native American intellectual and literary traditions'.
Many other references could be provided -
each one likely to enthrall - but that is not the purpose of this post and I
want to avoid wandering into an area of knowledge in
a way that might imply a lack of respect for the Haida language and
culture
For this is just a brief account of what for
me was a magical moment - of the sort that comes your way only once in a while and which
feels special - although hard to define
And I accept that my magic may be your mundane
In the weeks leading up to my journey to Haida
Gwaii I chose to use two images of clouds to accompany words which were, for me, of a particularly poignant kind One was of clouds over the Rockies and one was of clouds over
Tlell
And with these images still warm in my mind, here
is what happened when I was: -
On a bed
With a book
In a room
On an island
The book was Small Birds Cling to Bare Branches: nesting song birds on Haida
Gwaii by Margo Hearne
I had the book open at the page preceding the Foreword where, in a frame, was
text with the title How Shining Heavens Caused Himself to be Born
It referred to a story told by Walter McGregor of the Sealion town people to
J.R Swanton during his visit to Haida Gwaii during the winter of
1900-1901
And it tells how (and here I am quoting Margo
Hearne - with her permission) 'the Creator, Master Carpenter, adopted a child
found in a cockleshell by the Chief of Dju's daughter. The daughter and the
Creator raised the child together. When the child grew up he created the
elements'.
But the actual words I was reading as the wren flew into the room - a few feet in front
of me - before landing on a desk to my right - were those from the first part of the story
(again it is the version as presented in the book by Margo Hearne)
(The youth) went out from his mother's house
wearing his wren skin
He said, "Look Mother, look at me."
Then his Mother went out after him.
He sat as broad high cumulus clouds over the
ocean. His mother looked.
Then he came in and asked his mother,
"Did I look well?"
"Yes, chief my son, you looked
well."
And this is how the clouds were created
But before the story ends similar actions
involving a blue-jay skin and a woodpecker skin - and their part in creating the
sky and the sunset - are described
Much more about the story as told by Walter McGregor can be found on numerous sites but I am
choosing to leave the search to those who are genuinely motivated to learn more
And for anyone wishing a closer to look at this particular small bird
