Stories of Noah and the Great Flood

birds flying over rough sea
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Frank Joseph, in his fascinating book, Survivors of Atlantis, writes about many stories from tribal sources all over North America, that describe a version of the story of Noah and the Great Flood.

An Iroquois version talks about a land in the far east where an entire people lived. All of them drowned except for one lone survivor who escaped by leaving in a large boat along with many animals. After many days lost at sea, he sent out a dove, who returned from the west with a willow branch in his beak. Every year, the Iroquois featured the dove in a spring festival – which took place when the willow bloomed.

A similar ceremony was held by the Sioux, Chickasaw, Pima, Okanogan, and Mandan. George Catlan, known for his early paintings of Native Americans, wrote about the Mandan ceremony, in the early nineteenth century, noting that it gives an account of the Great Flood that destroyed nearly everyone. Only one man escaped in a big canoe. The Mandan remembered the willow twig which the bird carried in its beak – and that the great flood covered the earth for forty days.

Catlin wrote that he had found this story among 120 tribes that he had visited.  He also noted that many totem poles were said to have been made “at the time of the great flood.”

Both the Hopi and the Algonquin traditions tell of their ancestors being warned that the Gods would sink the land beneath the sea. After this the “Father of the Tribes” built a “great reed raft” on which he sailed away with his family and many animals.

In addition to these Native American stories, recalled by Frank Joseph, there are hundreds of other stories, from cultures all over the world, with remarkably similar details. In the two very well-known versions – there is the Greek account of the sinking of Atlantis in a Great Flood, which appears to be the same story as the Biblical Great Flood, from which Noah escaped after building the ark along with a pair of every animal. Then from the ark he sent out birds, including a dove, to find land.

From India, in the Hindu version, Manu rescues a tiny fish and raises him. He grows up to be huge and turns out to be Matsya, the fish incarnation of the God Vishnu. Matsya, after having been released into the ocean, returns later to warn his friend Manu of an upcoming flood, and Manu builds an ark to save himself and the seven sages. Instead of saving the animals – he saves the seeds of the earth’s plants.

How shall we explain the fact that this nearly identical story is told all over the world as if it were a true ancient event?

Well, there’s only one simple possibility. That is to consider that it may be a true story.

Graham Hancock along with a whole host of other writers have published dozens of very intriguing books suggesting that this is an account of a true event (or perhaps a series of events). During the time following the last Ice Age, the seas rose – perhaps a hundred meters – with the melting of the ice – thereby creating great floods and destroying an ancient, advanced civilization. The rising of the seas at this time is an accepted scientific fact. A few people survived and were scattered across the earth.

It’s worth looking into. You might start with Graham Hancock’s books.

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© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022

Bears Ears Co-Management — Organikos

Muley Point in Bears Ears National Monument in Utah. Mark Holm for The New York Times After plenty of contention, a move in the right direction, at last: In a Return to the Land, Tribes Will Jointly Manage a National Monument Five Native American tribes will work with the Bureau of Land Management to plan […]

Bears Ears Co-Management — Organikos

A conversation by the sea

green grass on sand overlooking body of water
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No one knew where he came from

Or why he looked a little odd,

Or what village was his home,

The one who was blue

And swam with fish

And had a gentle presence

And glimmering sea-green eyes.

They had a walk and a long talk

And after a while

A memory flickered of the friend

Known from long ago

By the rolling sea

Under the falling snow

Drifting down from the hills afar

Near an ancient star

In the lore

Of a distant folk

Who spoke

A fluid tongue that ran

On and on like the ringing rivers of time

A flickering smile

On another world

Sometime before

A gentle presence

The one who was from another place

By the sea

Of reflections

Of silver beings

Of a world

Pearled,

Furled in winds,

Curled in mist,

White-frothed,

Home of spike-nosed marlin

Long ago when the sea gulls cry

No one knows when or why.

He walked out of the wandering sea

In the light of the moon

Where he used to walk,

In a castled sea,

Shimmering blue and purple,

Within the magical light of the moon

The remembering moon,

The sea with veins of light

In the liquid granite stone,

Within the magical, numinous light

Of the mystery moon,

Darkening before

The lotus-flowered light of the dawn opens

Gone now,

Where or when

No one can tell,

Returned to the world that was before

And evermore

And always again.

The one who was wise

And came from another world

Sometime before,

Sometime long ago

In the deepening land of snow,

By the echoing cave

And the wandering sound of the waves

And the lilting, peaceful song

Of the silver light of the sea.

***

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022

Walnut Canyon National Monument~ —

Southeast of Flagstaff Arizona (click to enlarge and spot the cliff dwellings hidden in the rock face), on a plateau, is a six hundred foot deep canyon, carved by Walnut Creek, a stream that flows east into The Grand Canyon. Walnut canyon has been occupied by people for thousands of years. The first permanent residents, […]

Walnut Canyon National Monument~ —

Caught

white goat in shallow focus shot
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Caught,

No way out,

The shout

Of children laughing beyond the hill,

The sun

Wrapped up in billowing clouds,

Within the green, wavering willows

There are bowls

Of singing songs

Woven of silver shrouds

Of moonlight,

A thought

Flown

By,

The gongs

Of the ancient temple at the top of the flight

Of stone steps,

No one knows why.

After the fall,

No recall.

No intention.

Only the mystic lands,

Where glide

The magic birds,

Unknown,

Beyond all paths of being

Where stands

Only the Presence of Eternity,

Beyond the misted rings of timeless time, beckoning

Where only the sacred one walks along,

Only the One

Beyond all paths of being

And the herd

Of little bearded goats

That traipses after,

Who play

In the grass on the sands,

By the rolling sea,

They are the jokes of Saturn, Shani,

Who bray

With their offkey

Bleating call

Nearby,

Where the seasongs

Float on the seaweed

Of the ever-turning tide.

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022