Once upon a time there was an extra grand couple, a pair that had been together longer than anyone could remember, through the wickedest winters and the most bounteous summers ever seen.
For eons they reveled and flourished undisturbed, serving as the Great Mother and Great Father of many.
They were powerful providers and protectors, so loved and revered that eventually some of the creatures they served gave them names that reflected their natural greatness, Hetch and Yo for short.
Through everything, the iciest storms, the fiercest floods, the driest droughts, the most devastating fires, they stood by each other in an unbreakable embrace illuminated by an endless rotation of sunlight and moonlight.
And doing so enabled them to discover and share their most valuable gifts with others, especially gifts of abundance and beauty. And this was so because this was their shared destiny, their highest calling, what enabled them to serve and inspire others most. And they knew this was so because doing so pleased them most.
Then one day all this began to change when desperate outsiders arrived and began attacking Hetch. The wounds they inflicted on her lower lands caused an irritating itch that got worse and worse. And eventually this itch developed into an infection that swelled and festered and created a huge hard scab that solidified into a barrier, as hard as rock, that completely sealed off her femininity.
Oh, woe was Hetch. She cried out to Yo. For days she cried out. And the days turned into weeks. And the weeks into months. But Yo, as strong and powerful as he was, could do nothing to help her. And this saddened and pained him deeply.
The following spring as the snow melted, the barrier caused Hetch to take on so much water she turned a darkest blue. And instead of birthing new life, she wailed in horror at what happened next, how she began delivering stillness to so many she’d nurtured so unflinchingly and faithfully for so long.
Death oozed from her. And the wind relayed her unfortunate fate to Yo, and her wails pierced him and reverberated through him as he stood beside her through her darkest hours.
Then, when she could grieve no more, Hetch fell silent.
And she continues to silently ooze her malingering darkness into her waters as she awaits relief from it, as she awaits her restoration.
© Copyright
2006 by Kerri Bodmer. Reprinted by permission.
To get involved in the effort to restore Hetch Hetchy, contact Restore Hetch Hetchy at: info@hetchhetchy.org, To get involved in the effort to restore Hetch Hetchy, contact Restore Hetch Hetchy at: info@hetchhetchy.org, 6114 La Salle Ave. #457, Oakland, CA 94611. Telephone: (510) 655-1876.
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