Deep thought

Evening approaches. A lone man and his horse stop at the edge of Palouse Falls, in what used to be land that the Nez Perce, and the Palouse, or Palus, people, safely traveled through, lived in, and loved. (There is an odd tendency, among warfaring people throughout history, to name landmarks and put up signs that draw from the language of the people they overthrow. It’s almost as if fashioning a memorial in the conquered’s name – or the name we give them -- obfuscates the seizure. The name that the Palus gave the falls was Aput Aput, meaning “falling water.”) This is a time of transition for this man, because the culture of the dominating U.S. forces has twisted itself into his life: the blanket he wears is a trade from the Hudson Bay Company; he carries rifle instead of bow; the horse is saddled. There is nothing wrong with his taking advantage of the technology of the day; indeed, it is logical that he do so. But with every advent of technology, there is an exchange. The same rifle that makes hunting easier for him also enables him to be more easily shot. It’s a thought worth pursuing ourselves, in a day in which technology has reached proportions of almost kingship. What toy, what convenience, what thing that we embrace in our lives as useful can also, in wicked hands, be used against us? Perhaps this is a thought running through his head, unformed, not fully crystallized, because he is in the midst of the change – listening to the many promises made by the