Voices of the Colorado Plateau

“There’s no such thing as native and non-native. There’s just what’s here.”  •  Kit Metzger of Flying M Ranch

    We are all native to earth, though some have lived here longer than others, and lighter. Limestone and bristlecone, a Hopi peach and churro sheep, Macy’s coffee, Penney’s towel. The geological egg of land called the Colorado Plateau has resided as a unit in the Four Corners region of the U.S. for approximately 600 million years. From the perspective of 600 million years, let us imagine what some of the deep and surface natives of this land might say.

THE ROCKS OF THE COLORADO PLATEAU:
    Our community has wandered long. Our founding members, if they chose, could tell of southern latitudes and heat and slow flowing though long nights of a billion years. But what we remember best is lying under the sea and next to the sea, under the swamp and next to the swamp, and under the wind over and over again.  We rose, we melted, we felt something scratching on the surface of our skin.  They are too fast to be rocks. And we bend and we melt and we fold the itching into our community.

INSECTS:  The Miridae group of plant bugs.
   We like it here we like it here, we been all over this continent and have lots and lots of relatives, but a bunch of us decided to set up here 'cause there are a lot of places to call our own and nobody else wants them or even sees them – or sees us for that matter! We're always lookin' for that nice sweet sap layer all protected by bark that the babies need, and adults don't turn a nose up at either, and —  bonanza! The piñon pines arrive and, well: What can you say when you're in heaven, and they give you your own castle?  With the relatives, of course.  Ten tribes of us in the same tree, but — hey! — we’re insects! We done all right — 40 million years and counting.

TREES:  The piñon pine. 
    My people, we are from Mexico, though we tell stories that go all the way back to Asia.  Way back would be 180 million years, but this Colorado Plateau is our home maybe 20 million or so.
    We are so grateful to our neighbors here — the lichen and the fungus and the grasses who make this nice, light soil we love to sink our roots in.  And the woodrats and the piñon jays who carry our baby seeds around and plant them where they have enough water and don't dry out in the sun.  We couldn’t be here without the help of these others, and we hope they get something they need from us, as well.

MAMMALS:  The desert woodrat.
    “Don’t worry, honey!  I’ll pick that up!”  Yes, that’s my motto, and don’t care who knows it.  How long we been here?  Don’t know – wouldn’t tell if we did.  Look:  We’re mammals.  Babies, fur, milk – you know the drill.  We’re busy and nobody sees us, and we like it that way.  We lay low, keep an eye on the kids, set things up neat and organized, and keep our mouths shut, OK?
    Well, nobody saw us, and then some of those really tall, two-legged creatures started poking around in old caves, searching out our well-hidden piles. Picking things apart.  They don’t seem too interested in the new stuff, which is a blessing, but they dig and sort and count and photograph for days in some of the 10,000-year-old places.  They’ll pass, though.  What’s a few thousand years of stuff to us, been here for millions, be here millions more?  Let ‘em poke and — Honey! I'll pick that up! That’s my motto and don’t care who knows it.

REPTILES:  The speckled rattlesnake.
    ‘Ssssgood here.  Rockssss.  Miccce and ratss and baby birdss on the ground.  Eggssss.  We keep the peaccce here.  Yesssss.

HUMANS:  Living on the Colorado Plateau roughly 13,000 years.
    Fluted spear points.  (Coming up from what we now call Mexico.)  
    Language.  (Coming down from what we now call Canada.)  
    Mammoths, deer, corn, beans.  (Hunter-gatherers, nomadic gardeners.) 
    Water. 
    Trade shells, turquoise, seeds, slaves, secrets.  (Cities and irrigation.) 
    Invading armies, missionaries. (War.)
    Schools, reservations, fences, mines, dams.  (Transport and tourists.)
    Asphalt and electricity flash across the Colorado Plateau.

BIRDS:  The raven.
    Everything here is mine.

THE SKY:
    Imagine the world's air, blue and full of news, moving west to east across the Colorado Plateau.  A swirl of it rides the moist updraft from a factory or from a small pale pink canyon.  White mist condenses into cloud, drifts and stretches on the wind.  A raven banks beside it.  The cloud crosses the sun, and shadow slides over cattle, over juniper and goldgrey land.  Then it drops with the air, down a rise, and dissolves.

This is life on the Colorado Plateau:  Our lives are brief clouds condensing under blue sky, bringing shadows or rain
to this rocky land, then re-turning into air.

                                                 
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   created in 2009 for Diablo Trust's "Reflections of the Land" program

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                          all photos © 2009 by James D. Lewis • used with permission