Owegea

I just found out that where my parents' town sits (kind of my hometown, although it is not Spencer) used to be a Native American village called Owegea--- hence the name of the town: Owego... The Indian village was burned in 1779 (I believe) as a General went through the area to join forces with another army commander.... Talk about a hard reality to consider!!!
I learned this today as I was going on a walk, and it is suddenly explained a lot to me.... I wonder if the earth has fully grieved the tragedy? At any rate, I feel the presence of the Native American sensitivity.... I now understand, in part, why I feel so touched by spirits and the consciousness of Nature's presence when I am home.... I felt this particularly when I was on a run on a farther distant country road last week. The landscape was incredibly bare and the trees were like slender totem poles decorating the horizon.... And I felt this deep sense of familiarity, of being at home. I remembered when I would run on the back roads of Spencer in high school, always running towards the high school building-- it was the goal, the end-point, the finish line; now, I realize, that the finish line is not quite as certain and definite: In fact, it is incredibly more abstract and complicated, and yet I long for it all the more. I long for perfect, present contentment. Perhaps it is the longing that really matters most?