It's the light, and a lot more

In the 1960s Olympia Beer Company developed the successful marketing slogan, “It’s the water... and a lot more.”
After 125 years of continuously making beer, however, the Tumwater Washington brewer discontinued production in January 2021. Falling demand and a flood of industry challenges put an end to their business. It was a dark day for beer drinkers, and an economic blow to people of the Pacific Northwest. 
In its advertising, the brewery made it clear that, although they used carefully selected hops and the finest grains to make their beverages, it was the crystal-clear artesian water that made its beer uniquely tasty. Until 2021 Olympia’s customers seemed to agree.
As Pearl, Opal, and I walk to and from work each day, I am often reminded of the Olympia jingle and how it relates to our tiny community. In Bluff, it’s not the water, which like Tumwater’s is both artesian and tasty. Instead, it is the light … and a lot more.
While it can be hard to pin down what the “more” is, the natural light certainly makes Bluff an amazing place to live. The extraordinary illumination reminds me of Northern New Mexico, Santa Fe, Taos, and Georgia O’Keeffe.
Now that we are into our winter schedule, The Gems and I close the trading post about 5:00 o’clock every evening.
At that time, the sun on the low horizon bathes the cliffs on both the north and south sides of this narrow river valley in an electric show of reddish-pinkish-yellowish-bluish light that is breathtaking.
Although the glow only lasts about ten minutes, while it persists the cliffs are visually on fire. With their earthy red coloring and black desert varnish streaking, the bluffs remind me of Alice Cling pottery and ancient Southwest legends.
In Navajo stories, for example, Black God, who was fathered by Fire and nursed by Comet, is the personification of fire and is responsible for causing those black streaks in the sandstone. He is the inventor of the fire drill and was the first to consistently generate a flame.
Navajo folklore mentions how Navajo and Apache people once lived together and that they came to have a contentious and bitter falling out. Navajos acknowledge the Apache are linguistically and culturally related, and that these tribes long ago shared the same homeland. They do not, however, maintain close ties with their Athabaskan brothers and sisters.
During their joint occupation of this area, they began to bicker, harass, and terrorize each other with no apparent resolution in sight. Their relationship became so contentious the surroundings took on similarly prickly attributes.
Every plant became sharp and pointed like the cactus or yucca, the sky became grey and dull, and the rivers ran dark. Black God became so disgusted with the tribes he divided them into separate entities and directed the Apache into the southern mountains.
After the forced separation, things got better; the skies brightened and the waters cleared, but the sharp stickers remained.
Black God knew only flame could cleanse the land, so he set it all ablaze. That is the reason a black patina, the desert varnish, remains on the red rock formations around Navajoland.
Those fire clouds act as a reminder what can happen if we let emotion rule our relationships. They also serve as notice that the beauty and light we see in our world can be overshadowed by anger, frustration, and a lack of kindness.
This joyous season reminds us we must overlook the sharp, pointed, and prickly attributes of our everyday life and let the good shine through. The Olympia Beer folks might have declared, “It’s the love … and a lot more.”
Merry Christmas from all of us at Twin Rocks Trading Post and Café. As they sang in the Cowboy Church Sunday School all those years ago, “Let the sun shine in,” and let’s all have a happy, joyful, loving, and prosperous New Year.