A Place Whose Caretakers Were Removed
Map
Map
Story & Experience
The four of us talked about favorite places in nature that we remember from childhood and what they meant to us. “I grew up in L.A., but there was a big open field near the house – the only really natural spot around. It was our favorite place to play. We crawled in the tall grass and made tunnels.” “I grew up on a farm in Oregon. I was surrounded by plants and animals. It was always a happy and peaceful place.” “We used to go to a lake as a special treat to get out of the city heat there in Iowa. The water was cool and it was a beautiful place.” “ I used to sit under the branches of a big forsythia bush in my grandparents’ yard in West Virginia. The yellow flowers were beautiful and I felt peaceful and protected. I could peer out between them and see what was happening, while being hidden.”
We reflected on what it must have felt like to the native people to be forced to move from this beloved place that provided everything they needed. It must have been a terrible wrench that caused great grief. Certainly things changed for the place, too, when it lost its long-time caretakers. The creek is still there, but it has been dredged and re-routed. The tule is gone, as are the wild creatures that populated the area. Many of the edible native plants have long since disappeared. Buildings have been constructed a stone’s throw away.
But there is still beauty in this wounded place. We found it easy to imagine the people going about their daily life on this site. Fishing, hunting, washing clothes, making bread from acorn flour, and weaving baskets from the tule. Some of the huge old oaks that remain must have sheltered the native people, too. We acknowledged the wounds, and marveled at the present resilience.
The four of us talked about favorite places in nature that we remember from childhood and what they meant to us. “I grew up in L.A., but there was a big open field near the house – the only really natural spot around. It was our favorite place to play. We crawled in the tall grass and made tunnels.” “I grew up on a farm in Oregon. I was surrounded by plants and animals. It was always a happy and peaceful place.” “We used to go to a lake as a special treat to get out of the city heat there in Iowa. The water was cool and it was a beautiful place.” “ I used to sit under the branches of a big forsythia bush in my grandparents’ yard in West Virginia. The yellow flowers were beautiful and I felt peaceful and protected. I could peer out between them and see what was happening, while being hidden.”
We reflected on what it must have felt like to the native people to be forced to move from this beloved place that provided everything they needed. It must have been a terrible wrench that caused great grief. Certainly things changed for the place, too, when it lost its long-time caretakers. The creek is still there, but it has been dredged and re-routed. The tule is gone, as are the wild creatures that populated the area. Many of the edible native plants have long since disappeared. Buildings have been constructed a stone’s throw away.
But there is still beauty in this wounded place. We found it easy to imagine the people going about their daily life on this site. Fishing, hunting, washing clothes, making bread from acorn flour, and weaving baskets from the tule. Some of the huge old oaks that remain must have sheltered the native people, too. We acknowledged the wounds, and marveled at the present resilience.
Why this Place?
Patwin Village Site, Davis CA
This place on Putah Creek is dedicated to the memory of the groups of Patwin people whose village was here before western settlers arrived. They were caretakers of this place for centuries, but were forcibly removed to missions in the early 1800’s. The land later became the property of the University of California system, and is now part of the arboretum on the campus. Much has changed, but one can still sit and easily imagine how it looked as the people cooked over fires, and fished in the stream.
Act of Beauty
We created the Radical Joy bird out of pieces of bark, and objects like fallen flowers. We each added items to the figure of the bird, which seemed poised to fly high. We left it as a tribute by the memorial stone bearing the names of a number of the people who were forced to the missions.
Additional Photos
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