Woozchiid a time of strong winds

Woozchiid-is a time for strong winds, a time when the winds blow and the snow goes away. Way out in the sticks, where the days are slow and the clouds ride the wind way up high you can sit and wathc them a all day. In looking from a high point on the mesa you can see the shadows move slowly following an ant trail as it moves small boulders across the ground to a mound a little ways off.

In the distance there is a wagon with iron wheels headed to the trading post, old man Salt and his kids are headed that way to check the mail and buy a few things like Blue Bird flour, coffee and maybe some sweet stuff like a can of peaches.


In the distance there are pinon trees and juniper with their shaggy bark like spotted specks dropping off to the flat lands. The wind blows and the rush of it passing throught th ebrances whitles softly and neary the limbs rustle as it to say let us shake off winter and wait for the long sunny days of summer.


In the cleft of the an old juniper he finds a cut he made long sgo, when he wat a young man. He stood there when he was young and swung at the tree, but it was hard to cut and he went to find another tree; a pinon that would burn better than this one so he left it to go on to see his grandchilren when they would come through here on the Chuska Mountains.


The distant sky showed a small speck that went round and round way up
high, a new eagle taking flight following the wind as it soared on the
wind going higher and higher until it could not be seen anymore.


The ground is soft, and warm as he holds it against his skin, it is the color of Navajo sandstone some way, to him it is just tle'zh, dirt but it is good to feel it and know that this is home.


In the distance is the place of his birth, along the wash where old man Natani and Matana raised him in this valley, where the worn trails of sheep herders follow the clefts in the rock and washes to find a spring way down the south were a slow gentle spring of cool water marks the spot where the noon day sun would find him on many days and the sheep would graze as he watched over them.


It is Spring, the stiff wind blows, Woozchiid, Woozchiid.


"Shi che', She che' (Grandfather) the small boy said.


"Shush, be quiet, he is sleeping," said his mother Ninibah.


"Che'"(Chay-it sounds like in English)(Grandfather)


He stood there next to the bed, and saw Che' laying there stiff and covered with a blanket, it was far from Dinetah (Navajoland) far off
from there.


His Grandfather looked at him and thought to himself, "We were there you and I just a minute ago above Toadlena, on the mountain, a mesa near there and we went for a walk and I showed you the places I know"


Ninibah looked at him, her father and felt wondered what to say to him, now that he was here in this nursing home, so far from home. She stood there and made quiet talk about the weather, and going to the store in town to buy a few things and fixing the truck. He listened as she spoke seeing a little girl running through the sage brush, now here she was a mother now.


He looked at her and said it is ok, I know where I am, this is Sunday
and I am in a nursing home. I remember I fell and woke up here.


She looked at him and and said "Is there anything I can get for you?"


The old man looked at here and said, "I want to go home."


She looked away and said, "You just have to stay here a little longer."


The old man turned his head and could see the clouds moving along way
up high through the window and he was running along it's edge rhrough
the sage, feeling the stiff wind against him and the soft red earth
under his feet.


The young boy touched his hand and his eyes were bright and dark. "Che', when you come home we can play, ok?"


The old man smiled and held his hand, and they talked the afternoon
away.
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