Native Navajos

June 3, 2001


Snow is replacing itself on top of overlapping mountains in the early days of June. Change is lurking about in the refreshingly clean Montana air, as if a different address in a foreign state was not enough to perfect my sensitive equilibrium, I instinctively zero in on an up and coming shift in the atmosphere’s hidden but well-known magnetic poles. I keep having dreams about my life back home, but friends I have made here in a short amount of time have yet to make their way into my nightly regime. Kindred spirits wander these ancient halls, and as I mingle with each and every one of them, I am not yet lost in the outskirts of Yellowstone’s exposed northern side. This is all very nice, but I have yet to do what I came here to do, and I have yet to see what I came here to see. Will I want to leave when my departure date arrives?

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist