Sundance time is a couple of weeks away, the grass is dry and the air
is hot. The streams are really low this year and it will be a tough
Sundance this year.

He asked me are you going up there. We stood under the shade arbor at
the Pow-Wow grounds, it was late afternoon and the ground was hot. We
stood looking at the dancers and wondered how they could go out there
in buckskins and dance under the hot sun. It was 102 in the shade.

I told him, we will probably go up there. Some women go each morning
and gather around the Sundance arbor and wait for the dancers to come
out and watch them as they bless themselves with the rising sun,
standing in the early twilight of dark blue skies, turning pink and
gold then light blue as the sun rises to the East. You can hear the
sound of eagle bone whistles as they greet the morning sun.

Corn was one of them, he stood next to me, his arthritis has bent him
and made it hard for him to stand. He was soft spoken and spoke of
time he played in the fields at the Sundance ground where he camped
with a family that took him in, and how he went each year and watched
these dancers come out of the circle and greet the sun with parched
lips. He then prepared himself to dance by running each morning
building his stamina, and trying to ready himself by living a life so
that he could stand in the circle and dance with these men. He went
in with three brothers, who danced next to him for three days,
suffering without water and seeking the shelter of the shade at noon
day. Each wearing trail in the dirt where they danced back and forth.

He leaned on his cane and spoke about his children now grown and
standing not too far off. His name in the traditional way of speaking
is Coom-wee, it means Corn and that is how he is called. He stands
with some difficulty in the sunlight, his hands gnarled with the pain
of arthritis that swelled his knees. Most times he in a wheel chair
but you can't get around the dirt at the pow-wow grounds with a wheel
chair, so he chose to make his way around slowly.

His wife is a quiet woman and his son works for the tribe’s fish and
game, and his daughter works for the deli dept at the tribal store.
He stood for awhile and talked about the small things and the
Sundance that is coming up.

It is dry this year, and the thought of the taste and smell of rain
filled out senses. You know he said, we don't think about it but we
haven't had the sweet smell of rain, you know how it is when it is
just beginning to rain. The air cools, and the clouds hide the sun, a
slight breeze, a cool breeze comes up and you can feel the soft wind
come over you and the smell of rain gently falling is not too far
off. It is a good day when it rains like that he said. Standing there
in the hot sun, I could see it and with that he shook my hand and
went off to visit others as he walked away. He is Sundancer who is
waiting to stand with those who will seek a vision and left with the
soft taste of rain, for just a minute. They call him Corn and will
greet the early morning sun singing the songs of his People in a few
days as a singer in the arbor being prepared for them. Coom-wee he is
called, Maize, Corn.