August 28, 2016
The following morning, after a quick breakfast at the Cultural Center and checking out of my room, I returned to Ahote and Tuwa’s home, where I shared some photographs I had found online of their ancestors dating back to the early 1900s. Once we finished looking at the photographs, Tuwa handed me a gift. It was a black baseball cap with an embroidered head of a Bald Eagle on the front and the words “Native Pride” across the bill. I instantly recognized the hat’s significance and quickly expressed my sincere gratitude for such a powerful, heartfelt gift.
A few minutes later, the three of us headed down to the fields to take the photographs for Ahote. As we approached the grounds, I couldn’t help but notice an imposing storm building on the eastern horizon. Instinctively, I knew the storm would be a perfect backdrop for our photos.
We took a lot of photographs, but the following image captured everything that represented the Hopi culture to me: the man performing a pipe ceremony to call in the rain to water his crops so he could, in turn, pass on the harvest to his wife. It was a compelling photograph, and I was extremely grateful to be allowed to capture it.
As we started to wrap up our photo session, thunder could be heard in the distance, and lightning was visible several times.
A few minutes later, the three of us sat down and continued a conversation that had started during my last visit to Hopi about bringing visitors to their homes for a traditional Hopi meal. And just as our conversation got off the ground, it started to sprinkle rain. Tuwa got very excited; the shower was a positive sign, a confirmation, and a blessing from the Creator. Ahote, being from the Tobacco Clan, gifted me some of his tobacco, and this left me utterly speechless.
After we had completed our conversation and exchanged our goodbyes, I got in my rental car and headed back towards Phoenix. I decided to head back towards Winslow on Highway 87. I stopped several times to take more photographs.
The following photograph, for example, mirrored the circular motion that the lead singer made with his hands during the social dance at First Mesa the day before. It also exemplified the pattern the dancers followed as they exited their Kiva and moved across the plaza.
After taking a closer look at the photograph, I realized that everything the dancers had mimicked in their dance was captured: the rain, the thunder, the lightning. The cloud formation matched the formation of their dance ceremony perfectly. It all had an air of magic about it.
Exiting my vehicle to take the next photograph, I found a beautiful Raven feather lying on the ground. I could tell that the feather had just molted; its shape was perfect, and it was still very black, not yet faded by the sun. As I asked permission to remove it from the ground, I picked it up and left a coin in its place as an offering. For me, this feather was a continuation of all the blessings that had taken place during the last twenty-four hours.
As I continued my drive to Winslow, I came face-to-face with the storm that Ahote, Tuwa, and I had seen off in the distance during our photo session. It had slowly moved towards the west, intersecting with me just as I left Hopi.
I was shocked when a bolt of lightning struck the top of the mountain out of nowhere. I immediately stopped my car, put it in reverse, and parked on the side of the highway. I waited a few more seconds to see if lightning would strike again, and sure enough, a second strike. The second strike was much closer, and the thunder that followed was almost soul-shattering. Jolted, I pointed my vehicle back towards Winslow and hit the gas. As I continued my drive, I knew that the two strikes of lightning and the loud clap of thunder represented a positive affirmation from Ahote and Tuwa’s Creator.
I drove another mile or two and stopped again to take a few more photographs of the storm behind me. It was breathtaking.
After watching the storm for about fifteen minutes, I hopped back in my car and continued on Highway 87 until I came to the turnoff for Little Painted Desert. I stopped here to take a break and perform the first test flight of my new ©DJI Phantom 4 drone.
And just as I finished my maiden flight, I noticed a large Raven perch on a nearby guardrail. It appeared to be very curious about what I was doing and was completely unfazed by my presence. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the feather I had picked up earlier came from this particular Raven.
I knew from past experiences that Raven in some Native American cultures offered the following medicine or wisdom:
- renewal,
- magic,
- divination,
- no fear,
- rebirth,
- ancestors,
- self-comfort,
- introspection.
The meanings listed above seemed apropos for everything that occurred during this last visit to Hopi. The word ancestors stuck out the most.
After I packed up my drone and said farewell to the Raven, I found Interstate 40 and headed west to Flagstaff for a bite. Once I departed Flagstaff, I drove south on Interstate 17 to Montezuma’s Well to do another one of my stone ceremonies initiated during the last chapter of my story.
After laying down my stones, I walked up to the ruins close to the eastern rim of the well and performed the rest of my ceremony.
I made sure to give thanks for everything that had happened during the last twenty-four hours. Once my ceremony was complete, I headed back to Phoenix.