There's a crabapple tree at the northwestern end of the alley where i stay. And a crabapple tree on the west side of the house; i hear apples falling through his leaves, onto the roof, bouncing with a metallic thump like a low kalimba note springing from the gutter, falling to the ground. The crows here pluck them, drop them, and i suppose, eat them. I don't know, since i haven't seen one eating an apple yet.
I didn't know the crabapple tree at the northwestern end of the alley where i stay was even there! I must have looked in her direction a hundred times by now. I must've, but i didn't know. Or maybe i just forgot?
I know there is a crabapple tree on the west side of the house where i stay, because i talk about him with my friend who's house this is, and because i can hear apples falling through his leaves, onto the roof, bouncing with a metallic thump like a low kalimba note springing from the gutter, falling to the ground. I hear the crows plucking them, dropping them onto the roof, into the yard. I watch them in the branches sometimes. But i never knew the northwestern tree was there. Did i forget?
The crows know she is there. Do they still know in the winter when she has no apples for them to pluck? Do they remember her? Maybe they don't need to. I mean, how could they forget? Do they talk about her like i and my friend talk of her brother?
I do not care about the crabapple trees like the crows do, but i'd like to. I think i'll climb the one i didn't know at least, pluck some apples, and see about making jam. Maybe i'll see a crow eating one of her apples then! Maybe i'll remember her in the winter when she has no apples for me to pluck! But perhaps, i won’t need to remember.
There is a people called “Crow”, “Apsaalooke”, but their namesake has gone – they live near the Bighorns, on the Large Bighorn Sheep River, “Iisaxpúatahcheeaashisee”, 14 days by foot north-northwest of where i stay. Do the Bi'Shee wander near Where Something Seems Likely, “Baahammishíisteesh”? Do the Crow feel them again sometimes like a low rumbling note beneath their feet, do they hunt sometimes like they used to? I don’t know, since i’ve never talked with them; never shared their table.
I didn’t know Bi’Shee near Where Something Seems Likely, “Baahammishíisteesh”, had even returned to their place! Bilaxpáake háchka! I haven’t journeyed there once. So i didn’t know.
I knew, of course, that they were in the world somewhere. But i didn’t know where. I’ve never felt them; never smelled them; never heard their sounds. Does the ground rumble low and deep when they pass? I don’t know.
But the Crow do. They know right where she is, because that is their place. Did they remember her still when for 30 long winters she was gone from them? Did they remember her still when she was taken from them again for 7 more? Perhaps they didn’t need to. I mean, how could they forget? Do they speak of her like i do here, now? Or is theirs something better than speech?
I do not care about Bi’Shee like the Crow do, but i’d like to. I think i’d like to sit on the banks of the Large Bighorn Sheep River someday, “Iisaxpúatahcheeaashisee”, if i were welcome, perhaps join in a hunt, and share life and a table, and listen! Maybe then i’d feel the ground rumbling low when the Bi’Shee passes by! I have never hunted anything but a couple of fish! Maybe i will! Maybe then i’d remember her in winters when she’s gone from my sight! But not like the Crow do. Maybe i wouldn’t even need to remember! But not like the Crow.
Am i a student, steward, and dependent of primarily human made systems, and conceptual structures? Or am i a student, steward, and dependent of the more than human lifeworld of which i’m a part?