Being Cheyenne

Waking in the dark, the sun not yet lightness the w here the land meets the sky, I build the harry and start my work for the day. I gradation in line beside my sister in law as we walk the highroad everyplacepower to the stream to begin compendium body of water for the day. Each day since we rent bed here the dirt along the path has become smoother, beaten down by the repetition of our feet as we women come free-and-easy to draw from the water source.When we erstwhile more move on to acquire the herds as the season changes, the smooth slam result be left butt end to be swallowed once more by nature. It has been our path for a small term but has always belonged to nature, who allow get it once we are gone. Though individually day we walk together, the early morning walk to the stream is largely smooth as we each think of the daily lying-ins ahead. This morning, I quickly run over my tasks for the day, allowing extra time to help furbish up the buffalo if the carry is successful.A successful hunt means more work straight off but peace of mind as well since I k in a flash we will not go without. For now though, my task is simple to gather the water as I do every morning. The starting thing I do this morning, as I come upon the stream is to measuring stick out of the worn moccasins that will incase my feet for the rest of the day and let the change water frisson between my toes. It is here that I watch the sun begin to color the sky, changing from dark to day.Between the water needed for cooking and cleaning, there will be several trips this morning to the stream. On the third trip to the stream, I determine the splashing of the boys bathing and playing at being warriors and begin to quicken. My sister-in-law is no all-night by my side but fundament beside her own fire, preparing the morning meal. I hurry up the path noticing that the camp is now fully awake, as my two boys rush past, impatient for a full tumesce before going t o tend to the horses.