Walking across town a couple of days ago, half way to my destination is the town hospital. I am looking forward to seeing an old friend and I am thinking what a beautiful a summer day it is. Then I hear it. The drumming. It resonates somewhere inside me for some reason. You know the type of steady traditional drum that Native Americans play that feels like and sounds like a heart beat. Then you wait for the song or chant to follow, and that soon follows. Am I really hearing this, I think. Am I really that lucky? I love to here that sound, I remember hearing that when I was kid at the our local museum on a recording and being really drawn to it. I picked up my pace as the hair on the back of my arms begins to stand up as the steady beat picks up the cry of about four traditional singers. Wow, goosebumps are prickling my arms as the sound becomes closer and I see the bright head dress pumping to the beat of that drum, with a tee pee in the background. There is a really young dancer dressed up in the traditional garb standing on the side lines watching, learning and dancing. Stunning. Wish I could have taken a picture, but somehow that seemed inappropriate. I wanted to stop and watch, but it was almost making me feel emotional, plus I did not want to be late arriving at my friends. I felt almost like I saw something mystical happen on the lawn of the towns hospital that day as I drifted by that small gathering. I hope to check out the towns paper and see if it’ll tell me what it was for. Was it for the rain? We sure needed some and there was a steady rain last night. Did someone important pass? Was it song for the sick? What ever it was that song still sends a gentle shiver down my spine and I will be for ever thankful I witnessed that dance and heard that sound. The voices and the drumming raised the energy in my heart and to this day I can feel the vibrations. I am happy to have recorded this so I can look back and remember….