Granite mountains, dense with white firs,
lodgepole pines and ponderosas, rise abruptly
from the lake’s blue bowl, so deep its waters
could cover all of California and Nevada.
The Washoes who lived here ten thousand summers
named it Lake in the Sky because it reflected
clouds, sunset and stars. They caught Lahontan trout
in the lake, mountain whitefish in icy streams.
On the other side of the continent, my Wampanoag
ancestors were gathering cranberries, covering
their summer homes with cattail mats, baking clams,
drying corn and fishing for salmon off Cape Cod.
The Washoes used only fallen trees for homes
they would dismantle before leaving Lake in the Sky
each winter. In fall they gathered piñon pine nuts
to eat until spring. This was before white people came
and cut down the piñon pines to build their houses,
dynamited the mountains in search of silver
and gold, and claimed the fish. Now, a paddleboat
with three decks takes tourists on cruises of Lake Tahoe.
Yet in summer Washoes still do the Pine Nut Dance,
and Wampanoags do the Grass Dance to keep the world
in balance and remind us that the Earth is living, every
rock is sacred, and every tree and salmon has a soul.
This poem first appeared in Red Indian Road West: Native American Poetry from California (Scarlet Tanager Books, 2016).
—
Lucille Lang Day is the award-winning author or editor of 20 books, including four poetry chapbooks and seven full-length collections, most recently Birds of San Pancho and Other Poems of Place (Blue Light). The founder and publisher of Scarlet Tanager Books, she received her B.A. in biological sciences, M.A. in zoology, and Ph.D. in science/mathematics education from UC Berkeley, and her M.A. in English and MFA in creative writing from SF State University. lucillelangday.com
