Beside the Curley Willow at the trademarked Shadow Oaks in our part of the North County on the Central Coast of California, where we dwelled in the elegant town of El Paso de Robles (or “Paso”), I sat in solitude everyday at the apex of the hill on Lyle Lane on the patio looking down into the verdant sloped pastoral valley scenery watching the activities of the horses below me. They pranced about happily in complete abandon and satisfaction within ample white ranch-styled fencing partitions. Cats slinked through the grassy green oasis in a bid to catch birds, or sparring with snakes and squirrels in an ancient game of survival of the fittest, not too far away from a den of rare fox cubs blissfully playing, while old grey-haired watch dogs rested in the shade behind chain links.
Largarticos (little lizards) like ancient alligators slowly came out to join me one-by-one in the natural setting, perhaps knowing that I was greatly amused by their push-ups and no great threat to their existence. I, (and they) gloried in the warmth and abundance of the life-giving rays of the sun. It was clear that this place was settled a long time ago.
Almonds ready for harvest spilled down onto a generous bank of flowers growing in the center garden, like waiting treats for deer at dusk. Was I in the throws of sun worshipping at the top of a mother mound, I wondered? Maybe tomorrow would be a good time to take the same liberty on the east-facing patio this time sitting in the shadow of a giant Avocado Tree and nearby pine looming above the grape arbor and paved stone patio that reminded me of the lushness described in the hanging gardens of Babylon, before it all came to an abrupt end. The place was Mission style, Spanish-Moorish and ample, at least that is what I was thinking 10 years ago, at the outset of this spirit-filled journey.
Shielded from a world preferring the extinction of our kind, I recognized the blessing in this 3,800 sq. ft million-dollar hill-top Spanish villa on a pie-shaped acre with a seamless 360 degree view of thousands more rolling acres showcasing Cholam, San Miguel, San Antonio, and Santa Margarita to the south in the shadow of magnificent oaks.
I witnessed beauty all around me daily to be absorbed in remembrance of the sights once enjoyed by ancient Valley Indians, Yokuts, Miwoks, San Miguelitos, Chumash, Pericus, maybe even my remote Choctaw and Chickasaw ancestors whose lore insists that they came from the west. My view was the natural grand vista of Mountains within my eyesight, a range leading west through Templeton, Atascadero to the sea towards Cambria, Morro Bay (the Bay of the Moors) and Morro Rock (bi-sected by the San Andreas fault line). Regardless, it had been the Native piece of the rock before “temporary” Missions set the foundation for the place that you now know as America.
It took so long to achieve such bliss, yet, I felt no regret emerging from the safety, security and caring of all this beauty, giving in to a primal urge of the decidedly ill-convenient nobility of poverty, induced by spending our personal assets and every dime earned paying for all that was necessary or required on a journey vested in me by the ancestors, the people before me in order to tell the true and correct story of my Father’s Tribe--a factual-historical tale that will surely haunt me…to the end of my days.
May the Creator allow you too, to walk in beauty and nobility!
The Rest Of The Story Can Be Found In "My Father's Tribe: Black Town Temple of Heaven, Reclaiming Each Nuu Tnoo Huahi Andehui"
Dr. Angela Finley Molette
(Tuscaloosa Ohoyo) Black Warrior Woman
Find elements of the genealogy of my family in the Chickasaw Advance Party, scouting Oklahoma for settlement on the BIU website;
Black Indians United Legal Defense and Education Fund, Inc.