A Journey Through Fall Traditions

By Justine Correa

Cool breeze and the smell of green chile roasting- Fall is here. The new season brings many feelings and beautiful memories to mind. The brisk mornings and cool breeze in the afternoons are a refreshing change to the heat felt all summer here on Pueblo lands in New Mexico. The Fall harvest season is a special time when the crops, which were planted, cultivated, and cared for during the summer months, are harvested. Our community is often brought together to partake in celebrations, from traditional dances and feast days to long visits and gatherings around the table.

One of my favorite memories from this time of year is gathering our harvest from the fields we planted in spring. As a kid, I remember going down to our family field in the early morning to pick squash, corn, melons, pumpkins, and chile. With a basket in hand and excitement in my heart, I remember spending hours at our field with my family humming whatever 90’s pop or country song that was stuck in my head at the time, and collecting the delicious fruits of our labor. Well, in this case, fruits and vegetables. Haha. We would pile our freshly picked crops into our dusty old Chevy Truck. I can recall my dad yelling out to us in the field “Take your time but hurry up!” and my mother reminding us to have a happy heart when handling our crops and any type of food that we were going to prepare. She would say, “what you feel when preparing or handling food is what people are going to take in when they eat, so be happy.” Once we were done,  we would hop into our truck and make our way through the village roads to share our harvest with extended family, friends, and community members. This gave us a chance to catch up and crack a few jokes. Laughing together was one of my favorite parts of these impromptu visits and was good medicine for the heart. Sometimes the whole day would be spent visiting. We'd cruise down dirt roads, and along our journey, we'd stop to share the sweet and juicy, freshly grown watermelon on the tailgate. We’d make our way home with our windows down, letting in the cool breeze while soaking up the early fall sun rays, all the way until we pulled into our driveway and called it a day. 

As the leaves began to fall from my grandpa’s apricot trees and the days shortened we knew the colder months had arrived. This meant hunting season was upon us! I grew up being the oldest sibling in my family. Before my younger brother was born, I spent most of my time with my older cousins, uncles, and my father. I learned a great deal from the knowledge and wisdom they shared with me as a kid. I remember always wanting to tag along with my father and uncles during their yearly hunting trips in the fall. I would wake up to the strong smell of coffee in the wee hours of the morning and anxiously a wait for our group to pack up and make our way into the mountains. We’d make our plan and then journey out into the dark. Breathing in the mountain air and being immersed in nature, helps me to understand and feel my special connection to the land. I’ve always felt at home in the mountains, surrounded by the foliage, wildlife, water, and the delicate ecosystems they are a part of. Being in the mountains in the fall was magical as the colors changed to beautiful yellow, red, and orange hues as all things began to prepare for winter. On these hunting trips and in the mountains, I learned to be patient and observant. I also learned how to remain grounded in all four directions so I knew where home was regardless of the many canyons and gullies I hiked. I also learned that when you are out hunting you always stay close to the person carrying the snacks and toilet paper. Haha. When we had a successful deer or elk hunt, we would hurry home to prepare the game and make a huge pot of stew. We then invited the community into our home to share a nourishing meal with us. This is something I always look forward to. It especially felt good knowing that by the end of this process, tummies were full, hearts were happy, and laughter echoed within our home. 

These moments in the fall always fill me with such gratitude and admiration for my family, community, and the beautiful land I call home. These gatherings are prime examples of how we take care of each other as Indigenous people, by sharing what we have with one another and working hard to provide nourishment and resources to our communities. When one of us wins and is in abundance, we all win and are in abundance.

This caring, sharing, and abundance mentality are all part of our work at Roanhorse Consulting. Whether we are co-creating the emerging Moonsoon Fund or building the pathway for the second wave cohort of the Rematriating Economies Apprenticeship, I often reflect on the fields and planting season back home.

We prepare our fields. Plant our seeds. Throughout a hot summer, we care for and cultivate our plants with the help of family and community, all while having happy hearts. With enough rain and water, we are able to produce a bountiful crop to share and nourish others.  We know our work is part of something greater. This process, this harvest, and the way we build with community and future generations in mind energizes me and reminds me that we cannot do this alone. It requires clear direction, resources, care, and, above all, a supportive ecosystem. I’m excited for us to move ahead as a team to continue to build, cultivate, water, and ultimately bring these concepts and projects to fruition. I’m looking forward to all that Roanhorse Consulting will harvest and share with the world. 

This fall, I encourage you to take a breath and be present in the beautiful moments throughout your day. I invite you all to make time to be together with family and friends to share meals, swap recipes, crack jokes, and enjoy all the things that warm your hearts and spirits. 

I hope you enjoy scrolling through our newsletter,  indulge in my mix tape, and learning of all the great things that are happening at Roanhorse Consulting. 

Dawaa’e