Thomas Doty – Storyteller

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First Storm, Return to the Village

After months of no rain, in a dance of whirling leaves, the fall wind blows the sky full of clouds.

I walk the Indian trail along the Klamath River into the ruins of the Shasta village called Coyote's Paw: a hillside of cairns that are graves, remains of 30 or more winter lodges, a dance ring of stones. A century ago this wind brought the people home, laden with acorns and roots and dried salmon, eager for a few months of gossip and stories, of singing and dancing.

With the first rain I walk on. The vibrancy of the village sings with the wind, dances with the leaves, wanders like stories among the cairns.

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