Standing at the edge of the world
on the rim of the Navajo Canyon the Grandfathers answered the voice of
the flute. Echoing the melodies down the valley to the Pueblo village
ruins at Spruce Tree in Mesa Verde National Park where ancient spirits
On the walls of the caves are
Petroglyphs of the flute player Kokopelli and the legends of old telling
the story well. I could feel that the Native American Flute and its song
felt at home here in the Pueblo ruins where it had sang thousands of
Nighteagle a good friend who is a flute maker and pipe carrier had taken
me to his favorite place to play. Out on a point over looking Navajo
Canyon where the natural acoustics, reverb and echo where enchantingly
The view of the world from over
ten thousand feet was from the eye of an eagle and was unparalleled in
its awe and beauty.
The breath of the Creator was in
my lungs and the voice of the Great Spirit was in my heart as the sound
of the Native American Flute made its long journey echoing miles down
the canyon walls. The answering voices telling a timeless story of the
west and the people who lived here.
This was a mystical moment for me expanding my understanding and
consciences of what music can be and was at one time. I played here
until I could play no more.
John De Boer