What do you do when a sacred spring goes dry? Perhaps you cry enough tears to fill it up. Maybe you get scared that this is a sign that the world is ending.

On the southern slope of Mt. Shasta, just below tree line, the Winnemem Wintu revere a bubbling spring that they consider to be their origin point as a people. Its waters flow down to become the Winnemem, the middle water, known by its conquerors as the McCloud River. Winnemem ancestors lived along this river for countless generations, until Shasta Dam flooded them out and stopped the salmon runs.

On Saturday, we hiked to Panther Meadows to visit the spring. When we filmed In the Light of Reverence, a visit from the Winnemem would be a joyous time, with people singing songs to the spring and bubbles viewed as personal greetings. This time, an ominous fog filled the meadow and a white rope surrounding the bone-dry spring seemed to form the outline of a coffin. Indeed, the spring seemed dead.

Where once white sand danced when water emerged from the mountain to touch the air, now a hard packed suface of dry, brown soil lay lifeless between rock walls that usually cradle clear, cold water. The Winnemem stared in disbelief. In tribal memory the spring has never gone dry. How could this be?

When the Giver of Life stops giving — this is a frightening moment.

Tribal leader Caleen Sisk-Franco tried to counsel her people to have hope, to pray, and to fight harder to protect their sacred places. But when she got down on her knees in the dry spring bed to try to call the water back, she could not hold back the tears.

Looking down on a spiritual leader who has become a good friend, my heart was breaking. It felt like all of our efforts have failed. Global warming. Dams. Water bottling factories. Vanishing salmon. A corrupt government refusing to honor promises or recognize indigenous people. Time passing and changes coming too slowly.

A visitor from the Altai Republic of Russia, Urmat Yntaev, got down on his knees and tried to rouse the waters with a deep throated chant. Winnemem women grieved and wailed at the loss of this friend, their mother. The teen age boys who danced the war dance on Shasta Dam cried as they tried to find the words to pray for the spring’s revival. My cameraman, Will Parrinello, after filming for two-and-a-half hours, finally had to stop after the light faded, and as the songs and prayers went on he finally was able to relax and experience the scene and tears came streaming down his face.

But all of the droplets offered by humans did not bring the water back. We can only hope that a wet winter of rain and snow, a change in human behavior and a growing indigenous movement to support each other’s struggles will set things in balance and bring Panther Spring back to life.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 10th, 2007 at 6:54 pm and is filed under Winnemem Wintu. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.