Eons ago, early in my career, I got a call from Charlie the dairy farmer. It was about 7 pm. He had slashed his leg and wondered if I would sew him up at the office. He arrived with four little kids all of whom wanted up on the stretcher. I had to hold Amy, age 4, out of the way with my elbow as she kept getting her hair in the wound. Amy now works with my son who is a urologist. Amy is an Ultrasound Tech. Is this part of a narrative or a story or something else.
Eons ago, early in my career, I got a call from Charlie the dairy farmer. It was about 7 pm. He had slashed his leg and wondered if I would sew him up at the office. He arrived with four little kids all of whom wanted up on the stretcher. I had to hold Amy, age 4, out of the way with my elbow as she kept getting her hair in the wound. Amy now works with my son who is a urologist. Amy is an Ultrasound Tech. Is this part of a narrative or a story or something else.
How about the stories of salmon, calling the salmon home, the stories told at the signing ceremony...
Lovely story from my uncle:
Every four years, the Sockeye Salmon return to the place of their birth.
The Adams River. Their DNA has been embedded in the environment for
thousands of years. The Secwepemc people honor that history with a
celebration as they have for millennia. I was asked by the Secwepemc
people to attend a meeting about preparing for the return of the fish.
The celebration was to be named. We sat at the table with the elders and
I was surprised when they asked me to participate in the vote for the
name of the Salmon Celebration. We are of one accord....the return was
to be called....Calling the Salmon Home. The woman who was the most
senior said, "Calling the Salmon Home is calling the people home...."
This revelation tugged at my heart. People came from 60 countries to our
river to witness the spawning and the passing of the fish. Many
thousands of people at river's edge in silence ...and humility. One
young woman stood at the edge of a river pool with her two little girls
and in the water immediately at hand less than a meter away they
observed the male easing out of this life as the female drove the
fertilized eggs into the gravel and then she died. The woman said, "That
is so sad but so beautiful..." And the world comes.
And when the people come and stand at river's edge and observe the
masses of Onchorhyncus nerka writhing in the pools and pairing off for
the final hours of their lives, the witnesses may experience a shift
from photo-op to personal transformation.
Engineers and biologists stand at the river's edge with drones hovering
over the water as they record the movement and analyze the motion of the
fish.
The elder stands there as well, holding the hand of his granddaughter.
She says to the old man, "Why do they dance like that in the pools?"
He replies, "I think they are just happy to be home. If I was away for
four years, I probably would be happy to be home, too."
A young woman stands at river's edge with all of the others, holding her
infant close to her chest. She knows what it feels like to tuck her baby
in for the night but at that moment she bonds with a creature in the
water, that in the final stages of her short existence, is tucking her
fertilized eggs deeply into the crunches of river gravel for the winter
as her own Sockeye DNA becomes part of the environment.
We are one.