[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 6 (Wednesday, February 4, 1998)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E92-E93]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                                 A GIFT

                                 ______
                                 

                        HON. STEVE C. LaTOURETTE

                                of ohio

                    in the house of representatives

                      Wednesday, February 4, 1998

  Mr. LaTOURETTE. Mr. Speaker, as a proud co-sponsor to H.R. 1500, 
America's Red Rock Wilderness Act of 1997, I would like to insert the 
following poem, written by Ms. Anna Taft on October 27, 1997, into the 
Congressional Record:

       The desert gave me a package: a pile of sand wrapped in a 
     bundle of cottonwood leaves. This gift contains a mixture of 
     all the medicine of this land. It has red and white powders 
     from slickrock sculptures, crushed juniper berries and pinon 
     nuts, tiny bits of cryptogamic castles, damp sand from deep 
     canyon streams, desert varnish from narrow blackened slots, 
     and minuscule shards of Anasazi cookware. All blended 
     together, its contents are no longer discernible, but it 
     smells distinctly of triumph over adversity, of trees 
     sprouting up far from water, of pothole creatures emerging 
     from dormancy as raindrops rehydrate their world, of 
     topographic contour lines at last clicking into place to 
     match landforms, of hikers passing packs past the last ledge 
     to reach a canyon rim, of warm sleeping bags inside a megamid 
     covered with snow, of evaporation off of hot bodies as they 
     emerge from a sweat lodge into cold night air, of a group of 
     people learning to live together in harmony in the desert, of 
     balance, neither superabundance nor emptiness. This bundle is 
     wrapped tightly, but as I travel its leaves will start to 
     come apart. The sand inside will spill out, spreading its 
     magic through all the places I go. Everyone I meet will smell 
     the job of accomplishment, the peace of harmony. One or

[[Page E93]]

     two of them will recognize the scent and pull out their own 
     little bundles, letting their own magic flow over them again. 
     The others will smell and know of the wonderful things that 
     are out there. For some, it may be the signal to go out and 
     find that essence of life for themselves. For others it will 
     be enough simply to breathe deeply and understand. If I don't 
     keep the leaves moist, they will dry out and crack and I will 
     lose more sand. But some will always be with me and the 
     medicine will always be there.
       The desert has given me a package, but what can I give to 
     the desert? I can give only sweat and blood, perhaps tears, 
     and my love and gratitude, my commitment to walk softly and 
     protect this land as best I can. The desert asks only this in 
     return: that I let it live and share its magic with others, 
     that they, also, may learn to love the land.

     

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