It is 2 degrees this morning and most of the action at
the camp has not been not occurring inside the dome but outside where people
are scrambling to complete last-minute preparations of the many dwellings for
the mighty storm anticipated this weekend, plunging temps well below zero and
heralding arctic winds.
I do not want to be here for that. Our sun is so very
bright this early morning, winds slight, but temps frigid as cold seeps in
through soles of heavy boots past three pairs of wool socks to freeze our toes.
So Liz and I are going to leave today – before noon I
hope – and Silvia and Gloria are going to stay. More goodbyes.
We load the back of the truck with bags and bags of
surplus donations and then find the 2-spirit camp to load the camper with even
more bags – all to be delivered to various reservations near our beaten path
south to El Paso, where the bloody EPT is raping and destroying the Mother
Earth and where fierce, determined Water Protectors are gathering to stop the
I’m sad we cannot take more, before the harsh winter
claims the items and renders them useless, and I entertain the idea , the hope
really, of returning once more to Oceti after we drop off these supplies, if
the weather holds one more day.
Again, I am sickened with the knowledge of the amount of
‘stuff’ we have in this country, ‘stuff’ those that have hoard and take from
those that don’t have; not to mention the assuaging of guilt for those that
will not cease consuming the many ‘luxuries’ the crude oil of the Black Snake
provides, that will not share and provide for those with less, those who are