INDIGENOUS PEOPLES' DAY IN CHEROKEE

There's nothing like the Smoky Mountains in Fall.

This past week here in the U.S. we celebrated Indigenous Peoples’ Day, a holiday updating the long inaccurate and inappropriate “Columbus Day” meant to honor the “discoverer of America.” The problem with that was that Christopher Columbus didn’t really discover America (indigenous people had been living here for centuries and, besides, Leif Erickson had sailed from Europe before, too) and what followed Columbus’s landing wasn’t exactly something to celebrate for the folks living here, either.

So, Indigenous Peoples’ Day has a better ring to it. Here in Western North Carolina, the indigenous Cherokee exert a subtle presence over the land those of us of European descent have overtaken. Somehow that’s inevitable, not only because so many of the features of the landscape—mountains, rivers, towns—have Cherokee names, but also because the Cherokee lived in such close association with the environment that their spirit can still be felt here if you take the time to listen for it.

I spent the day after Indigenous Peoples’ Day in modern-day Cherokee country, across the old Quallah Boundary, west of my home in Marshall, in Great Smoky Mountains National Park and the town of Cherokee next door. Signs were written in both English and Cherokee (one of the first written Native languages), billboards advertised local Native crafts and businesses and, of course, Unto These Hills, the play written about the Trail of Tears.

Even folks who aren’t from this area are familiar with the story of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, passed by slim vote in Congress under the presidency of Andrew Jackson. Not only the Cherokee, but members of all Five Civilized Tribes (Cherokee, Chicasaw, Creek, Choctaw, and Seminole) from Michigan to Louisiana and Florida were subject to removal across the Mississippi under the act, to “Indian territory” (Oklahoma).

Seminole leaders fled into the swamps of Florida and largely avoided removal. Cherokees under the leadership of Junaluska (who had once saved Jackson life in battle) and others resisted by legal means since many were educated and owned farms and businesses. But they were betrayed by three others, who signed over their land for a promised sum of $5 million in the 1835 Treaty of New Echota. Despite the fact that the Cherokee Nation as a whole rejected the treaty, some 16,000 Cherokee were forcibly removed from their homes two years after Congress ratified the treaty in 1836. Four thousand died on the way to Oklahoma, a trip made mostly in winter, with little food. They were buried in unmarked graves, far from home.

A small band of Cherokee families owned land around the Oconoluftee River in Western North Carolina under earlier treaties and, after a special appeal to the North Carolina legislature, was allowed to stay behind. Another group of 300-400 led by a man named Tsali hid in the mountains and avoided capture during the removal. Tsali was eventually captured by Federal soldiers but negotiated to allow his people to stay. All in all, about a thousand Cherokee remained in Western North Carolina (or returned from Oklahoma) to serve as the ancestors of what is today the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, who live centered in around Cherokee, NC.

On an earlier trip to Cherokee, I visited the excellent Museum of the Cherokee Indian, which is part history, part art museum. When I was much younger (like 12), I visited the living history Oconoluftee Indian Village, a recreation of a Cherokee village of the 18^th Century. I guess you could say I’ve always been fascinated with Native culture.

I didn’t set out to visit Cherokee for Indigenous Peoples’ Day. That was just a happy coincidence. Hubby and I spent the weekend in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, home of Dolly Parton’s Dollywood theme park—our first getaway that wasn’t related to family since COVID. Turned out it was a perfect fall weekend, with the leaves turning, the sun shining, the breeze just crisp enough. The crowds at Dollywood were a little overwhelming after all this time in isolation, but I love people-watching, so I got my fill of that. We ignored the rides and concentrated on the music (which was top-notch), the crafts and the food. Then we came back through the mountains, which were stunning.

The trip left us more grateful than ever to live in this wonderful place, once and still the home of the Cherokee.

Cheers, Donna

 

HAPPY FALL TO ALL!

Purple ironweed, friend to butterflies and hummers.

Or spring for those in the southern hemisphere! Yes, we passed the equinox yesterday, and as is typical here in the mountains, we've had a spell of hot weather, which is due to be followed by our first frost in the higher elevations. 

 

I'm on my way to visit family today, so no long-winded post this week. Just a picture of pretty ironweed, friend to butterflies and hummingbirds, and a sure sign of the season. See you next week.

 

Cheers, Donna

MY OTHER, OTHER HOBBY

I don't usually post a lot about how I spend multiple hours every spring, summer and fall when I'm not writing science fiction romance, blogging here or reviewing films and television on my podcast. But when my mind's not out in space somewhere, it's very much grounded--in my garden.

 

This year has been a spectacular one for the garden, which is not to brag, because I consider gardening to be about 30 percent my effort and 70 percent up to Mother Nature. She has been very kind this year, as the pictures below reveal. The tomatoes outgrew their original supports (Photo One shows them overflowing their "cage." Photo Two shows the new ladders I just got to support them.) I tried a new Malabar spinach, a tropical vine that provides a lovely edible green all through the heat and looks great on the entrance to my garden, too (Photo Three). And, finally, in Photo Four, you see the results of Mother Nature's bounty! 

 

Posted in gratitude,

Donna

 

These tomatoes are clearly out of control!

 

Ah, that's more like it!

Tropical Malabar spinach all summer long.

Mother Nature's bounty from those unruly plants.

COUNTING THE FOGS IN AUGUST

 

Each morning fog in WNC in August means a winter snow.

I'm currently on vacation, so no long-winded post today. But as I enjoy my family's visit here in Western North Carolina, we're in an extended cool, rainy period. That means lots of foggy mornings. Traditional folk wisdom here in the mountains means every morning fog in August means a snow the following winter. So far, we're in for a very snowy winter!

 

I'll be back next week with my regular post.

 

Cheers, Donna

WNC'S WILD AND CRAZY WEATHER

Shakespeare may have said that April is the cruelest month, but he had never had experience with spring in the mountains of Western North Carolina. Over the last two weeks, we have had several days where the temperatures have approached 80 degrees, followed by days of accumulating snow and overnight frosts, interspersed with sunny, very windy days with typical cool spring temperatures, followed by deluges of heavy rain. Parts of the area were threatened with tornadoes and flash floods. Meanwhile, flowering trees like dogwoods and sourwoods are trying to bloom and early veggies like broccoli and greens are struggling to maintain some kind of growth against Mother Nature’s moods.

I’ve been a gardener since I was a teenager, and I’ve grown something in most places I’ve lived around the world. But this is the most challenging environment to my green thumb of anyplace I’ve ever tried to raise a plant. The timing is just impossible. Some plants have to go in early enough to beat the later heat—but frost can threaten as late as Mother’s Day despite the official frost-free date of April 20. Later plants (like tomatoes) have to be protected much longer than anywhere else as a result, and their yields are delayed accordingly. Disease-resistant varieties are a must, since the crazy weather can weaken plants and make them susceptible to things like wilt later in the summer. It’s a wonder early white settlers didn’t all starve to death.

In case you think I’m just whining, take a look at this list of the real seasons mountain folk live through every year. (Hint: it’s not just four.) Maybe you have a similar list where you live. And in case you’re wondering, we’ve just passed Third Winter (sometimes called Dogwood Winter) and we’re entering The Pollening now. My car is covered with yellow powder.

Wherever you are, I hope the seasons are following their natural course for you.

Cheers, Donna

 

TOP FIVE REASONS TO LOVE SUMMER!

We just celebrated Memorial Day here in the U.S., which marks the official beginning of summer. Summer isn’t my all-time favorite season (that would be fall), but I do love that “school’s out” feeling, even if I’m busier than ever in June, July and August. 

So, with apologies to Greta, who is just entering winter in Australia,here are my Top Five Reasons to Love Summer, followed by a few things that can ruin your season in the sun.

1)    Warm weather and sunshine. There are plenty of folks here in the South who start complaining of the heat in late spring. Not me. I love being able to go out in the morning with just a tee-shirt, knowing I won’t be shivering. Granted, with climate change, even in the mountains, we’ve had high temps already, but I’d rather suffer ninety degrees than freeze my nose off.

2)    Birds, birds, birds. In Disney’s BAMBI, the wise old owl complains that the birds are all “twitter-pated” at this time of year, finding mates, building nests and singing their little hearts out. They are certainly living up to that description around my house. The hummingbirds are making do with my feeder while waiting for the four o’clocks to bloom. And the hawks and owls trade shifts to give the bunnies the willies.

3)    Festivals and cons. Marshall offers the fantastically creative Mermaid Festival in June, transforming the town for an entire day into a haven for ocean creatures, pirates, ladies of the sea and marvelous inventions of all sorts and culminating in a parade down Main Street. I’m participating in the first annual Spruce Pine Alien Conference and EXPO the next county over (near Brown Mountain, site of many UFO sightings) later in June. In July, the 41^st annual Shore Leave STAR TREK convention welcomes Nichelle Nichols and Anson Mount as guests, and I’m once again participating in the authors’ panels.

4)    Lazy afternoons/evenings on the screened porch. I admit I haven’t had a lot of time for these yet. But they are among my favorite parts of summer. Afternoons with a book and a glass of iced tea. Evenings with friends and an adult libation while the air gets cool and the coyotes have their little parties. Aahh!

5)    Fireworks on the Fourth of July. The little brewpub in our town has a deck overlooking the French Broad River. Last year the town fathers in their wisdom moved the fireworks launch site across the river, making the best place to view the display just that brewpub deck. I plan to get there early!

Maybe Reason #6--the mountain views in summer.

Now, summers have a few drawbacks, too, some bigger than others:

--Destructive weather. We’ve probably seen the last of heavy downpours, flooding and landslides until the fall here in western North Carolina, but the folks all along the Mississippi River and its tributaries are facing historic flooding right now. Tornadoes have flattened towns throughout the Midwest and South all spring and will probably continue to threaten the region into the summer. Climate change is driving all this wild weather, putting millions of people and a vast amount of farmland at risk.

--Drownings, lost hikers and accidents in the woods. Recent lost hikers in Hawaii have called national attention to this problem, which is all too common here in the Appalachians, near Great Smoky Mountains National Park and other outdoor attractions. North Carolina has a lot of beautiful waterfalls, which draw unwary outdoor enthusiasts to their deaths every summer. Young people, especially, think they’re invulnerable and ignore warnings, taking crazy risks. Rescue teams are sometimes too late.

--Poison ivy, my personal bane. This is not a threat to life, of course, but no summer is complete without an encounter with this evil denizen of the woods. Climate change is at work here, too, since this plant just loves higher levels of carbon dioxide and heat. Great.

--Raccoons and squirrels. Fine animals in their place, but when they set out to dig up all my recently planted shrubs or steal the just-ripe strawberries from my raised planting box, this means war!

Cheers, Donna