Tag: Longhouse

The confluence of the centuries should be like the joining of two rivers. As they merge, the memories of countless moments and places
should fold one unto another, and form a deeper, broader flow of
knowledge.

As the 19th Century merged into the 20th, my father was a young man. He lived his whole life on the Nisqually River. He was born in a wooden longhouse to parents who had lived on the same river throughout their lives. The heritage of the Nisqually has been passed from generation to generation for thousands of years. As my father
grew, he learned to fish, hunt and gather everything from cedar bark to a multitude of wild fruits and vegetables. He learned the legacies of stewardship.