In Acoma, on the way to Sky City, I see a white buffalo. Slowly treading up the desert sage-brush rise above the road, its iconic figure is almost posing for me. But I’m on Acoma territory, and should not take a photograph until I register my camera with the tourist office. So I don’t dare shoot.
Later, up on the mesa called Sky City, I ask my tour guide Gary how many buffalo are on Acoma land. None, he replies. I tell him what I saw and he tells me that it must have been a steer. I know the difference between the two, and this was not a steer. It was a buffalo, and it was the color of the early sun.
Was it just my imagination playing morning tricks or was it something in the spirit world appearing to me in an answer to a vision quest? Or was it real? In Native American legend, the white buffalo is most sacred, the bringer of abundance with the lessons of right prayer and action, the teacher of all unity.
And so, these questions do not matter. What you think you see is what you see. The world is always working in this way. We are always dreaming what we think we dream. Our life will always be that way. Reality is only our interpretation. And this truth appears this way.
In Acoma, on the way to Sky City, I see a white buffalo.