Green Shirt

“It’s about my feet now. Where do I walk, how do I stand?”

I felt like a fucking idiot. I’ve never been on a Reserve before. I didn’t know if I was welcome. I didn’t know if I should sign in somewhere. I didn’t know where I should go. All I knew was that even though I hadn’t see anyone, everyone had seen the girl in the green shirt wandering around town like a foreigner.

I ended up taking some photos of the Catholic Cathedral to make it look like I had a reason to be there: “Tourist on Native Land” again.

I looked out over the St. Lawrence River and imagined Robert boating across to bring rent collected from the Nutfield Tract. I wonder if he was a welcomed guest?

After deciding I was way to shy to go looking for the band council office, I drove two minutes down the road and climbed down to the bank of the St Regis River. I stuck my feet in the river and let the minnow clean them.