It seems sacrilege to go out with my gun on so I take my holster off and lay it on a chair. I won’t go too far. The Apache Medicine man taught me when the lightning hits the ground it gives birth to snakes. You see the Crown dancers holding great huge snakes as they dance. I ask them for protection. The rainbow has called to me.
Another teacher a Navajo Medicine man taught me to beware of rainbows they steal your soul.
But this rainbow is majestic. A blessing, a call to being. It has been an hour and the rainbow stays strong in the sky. A moment ago lightening struck the earth passing though the bright colors. Finally the thunder has stopped. It shook the ground could it have been the Mountain Gods? Winds pass through. Birds hunt and the rabbit beings his dinner hop. It has been quiet for a long time now. Finally the birds begin to call out. I must sew bells onto my boots so I can also dance with the thunder and honor the rain.