It has been a long time since this campfire burned. It was only yesterday. The noon-day sun reminds me of the Sunbird. I want to cry, but to do so would be wrong. Nothing is permanent. Everything changes.
Understanding lodges in the crevices of my mind like sand grains in my clothes. As soon as I know it is there, I look to see and it is gone. I am left with streaks of what was, more hints at what could have been, and wild speculation at what it is.
The noon-day sun moves imperceptibly above me.
I expect to see Kachina dancers top the ridge at any moment.
Instead, only the coyotes rise to greet me.
A flash of memory, and I see the Sunbird on my shoulder again.
I turn to look, and see only the devouring darkness of my raven feathers.
“I see, Big Brother. But I do not understand.” My voice surprises me.
The Sunbird’s voice echoes strong from my memory.
“I am! Ha-ha!
You are! Ho-ho!
We both are! Hee-hee!
We’re nothing.”
I know I should laugh, but I have no mirth in me. Only the knowledge that I am ignorant, and that I am running out of time.