DENVER MARCH POW WOW

We got a late start to Denver because I had to pick up Big Red, who had a relapse and had to see the surgeon again.  By the way, she's fully recouperated now and back on the road, better than ever.  Anyhow... at the Denver Collosium we were greeted by a sea of feathers and fringe.  The air was ringing with the sound of bells and the pounding of drums.  But it wasn't just in the sight and sounds, it was something about the air, the atmosphere.... something you could FEEL more than anything else, a feeling that gets your heart beating in time with the drums, the feeling that you know the songs being chanted even though you don't know the words... the feeling of pride... when everyone wants to be a Native American just to be able to say 'Yes, I am a part of THIS'. 

I miss dancing.  Once upon a time I used to tear up the dance arena every weekend up and down the east coast.  I have a certificate that I hang proudly on my wall... 1st Place Womens Senior Fancy Shawl Dancer,  Native American Festival, Charlotte, North Carolina  July 1993.  That was my first and last competition.  I competed that day just to prove I could, and I walked away with $450, but it wasn't about the money which I proved by not competing again.  It was all about the feeling I get when I dance, or sometimes when I watch others dance, and listen to the drummers as they beat out a heart beat and sing a chant that I don't know the words to but know it by heart.

The above picture is of some fancy feather dancers.  Can you figure out how many dancers there are in that picture?  This is not a contest.  I honestly don't know.