A wind from God

From the first creation story in Genesis:

“In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.”

The Hebrew word for wind is ruach which is also the word for spirit. This is why some translations write the spirit of God hovered over the waters. In New Testament Greek, pneuma is the word for wind, and again, spirit. The gospel writer John used this dual meaning as a literary device. He wrote, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

It seems that dung beetles are born of the Spirit, thus this story of dung beetles and dust devils.

In the late spring of 2016, about 8 months after Wendy and I moved to New Mexico to homestead, I was out for a morning walk with my dog Spirit. On this walk, like many, I was fascinated by the plentiful dung beetles out and about. Where they were coming from and where they were going, I hadn’t a clue. But I enjoyed touching a beetle now and then to see them put their butts up in the air and face to the ground. For some reason, that morning I reverted to a 10 year old boy and wondered how tough their exoskeletons were. So I crunched one with my foot. The exoskeleton was tough, but that’s not what struck me. Inside a bad feeling welled up and also poured into me from outside. I was mad at myself for doing something out of character, and also a little shaken by a sense that life in this little valley was disturbed and angry. But like a good Calvinist, I confessed my misdeed and accepted the deserved guilt. And like a good child of the Enlightenment, I discounted my worried feeling by clinging to scientific certainty that one dung beetle crunched wasn’t connected to anything but the bottom of my shoe.

The next morning was a warm, blue sky New Mexico day. We headed to Gallup for supplies and a visit to the laundromat. Upon returning, I immediately noticed some lumber strewn around on the ground. Next to the chicken coop, I had a stack of 4×8 sheets of OSB with some 2×4 boards on top. Now, 2x4s were scattered and a couple OSB sheets were on the ground away from the pile. My first thought was that someone had been here and messed with stuff. So I looked in the mobile home and where my tools were. Nothing awry. Then I saw the windshield of my Saturn sedan, which was parked in front of the mobile home, about 20 feet from the chicken coop. The windshield was shattered. And there was a blue streak across the hood. The same blue that was on the edges of the OSB.

“WTF!” went through my head and loudly out my mouth. An appropriate reaction since a sheet of OSB, that weighs nearly 50 lbs, traveled 20 feet through the air to bust my windshield. How could that happen?

Time to solve a mystery.

Nothing else around was out of place. The chickens were fine. In fact, a cardboard box next to the stack of OSB was still there. But I did see some crumpled up paper that had been inside the box was now about 25 feet away. That meant a straight wind couldn’t have been the culprit. Something lifted the paper and the OSB up in the air before hurling it. Maybe a dust devil?

I’d seen dust devils in the area before. They spin like little tornadoes, lifting dirt and gravel, sometimes lasting for a minute or two, but most of the time just a few seconds. Picking up dirt and gravel though, isn’t the same as lifting a 50 lb sheet of OSB. So I looked it up. Indeed, dust devils can be strong enough to damage roofs. I found the culprit.

In my research, I discovered the significance of dust devils in the indigenous culture that surrounds me. The Navajo believe dust devils are the spirits of the dead. One spinning counterclockwise is a bad spirit. Clockwise, a good spirit. Armed with this knowledge, I went back out to examine the devil’s work. After carefully calculating the angular momentum necessary to move the OSB to the windshield and the landing spot after the vandalism, it was no surprise the whirlwind would have been spinning counterclockwise. This attempt at forensic science answered the how, but not the why.

It was then I remembered crunching the dung beetle the day before and the creepy feeling I experienced.

Dung beetles, in Native American culture of the southwest, are connected to creation. They dug in the earth and created humans from the clay. They are a spiritual link to the ground which gives us form. Hmmm…now the strange feeling that I had disturbed the life force of the valley made sense. Lesson learned. Don’t mess with dung beetles.

Apparently, dung beetles hold grudges.

In early summer of 2022, two years after Wendy died, I was engaged in a little bedding plant and houseplant business along with the 17 year old daughter of the women who helps me take care of my mom. Not many employment opportunities around here, so I wanted to help Olivia (the daughter) make some money before she turned 18 and ventured out into the world. Every Saturday we sold plants from a kiosk in front of the Inscription Rock Trading Post down by El Morro. To pass the time between customers, I told Olivia stories from my life. She found them interesting and always asked for more. So, eventually I got to the dung beetle/dust devil story. When I told her about crunching the dung beetle, she was stunned and upset. “Why would you do that?” “That’s not like you.” “How terrible and cruel.” She was right on all counts. But I explained that I was adequately punished by the dust devil shattering my windshield. A $175 punishment, since that’s what it cost to replace the glass. Olivia wasn’t appeased. I crunched a dung beetle. Shame on me.

The next morning I was engaged in the never ending chore of watering plants, which takes a while since I usually have about 150 plants. It was very calm and clear. When I went in through my house to the dining hall then the greenhouse (it’s all connected), I saw a dung beetle right in front of me. I barely avoided stepping on it. Ha, ha, very funny, I thought. But I’m not stepping on you. On my way back through again, the beetle had moved and put itself in another spot where my foot would have landed had I not spotted it. And then a third time the dung beetle tried committing suicide by Paul’s foot. Nope, not going to happen. And by the way, quit messing with me.

As I was watering plants on my patio, I felt a little gust of wind. More like a breath of wind. An inhale of wind. About ten seconds later, I heard a crashing sound of wood and metal from behind my place. Quickly, I headed around back and was stunned at what I saw.

In front of the dining hall was an array of four solar panels mounted on a frame of 2x4s. But now, as I stood behind the dining hall, I was looking at the solar array. Or what was left of it. Somehow the panels, which were supposed to be twenty feet in front of the dining hall were now about ten feet behind it, wrecked. One of my dogs, Kachina, sniffed the wreckage and kept looking at me quizzically. She knew the panels didn’t belong there.

As I continued forward, more damage was revealed. Behind the greenhouse (again, which is attached to the dining hall) I have my workshop area and lumber storage. It is covered by 8 foot corrugated panels. Two 8 by 4 foot sections were ripped off. One section was laying the field. The other section resting comfortably 15 feet up in a tree.

At this point, I realized that my car was parked right next to where the panels had been. I had left it there after unloading plants the previous day. My first thought was: Another shattered windshield, or worse. When I came around to the front, amazingly there was no damage to the car. The cement blocks that were holding the solar array down were scattered, but no broken windows on the vehicle.

So, apparently what happened is the dung beetles summoned a very strong dust devil which came straight down on the solar panels and lifted them up, clearing the car which was five feet away, then carried the panels twenty feet in the air over the dining hall. The wires from the panels acted like a kite string as the array sailed aloft. When the wires went taut, the panel crashed down and the whirlwind turned right and ripped off the workshop covering. It then carried one section into the tree before dissipating. All this happened in probably 15 seconds with me standing on my patio about 75 feet from the crime scene. Because I was on the side of my house, I didn’t see a thing.

The next time I saw Olivia, I shared how her outrage at my crunching a dung beetle years ago had reawakened the dust devil spirit that works for them. Instead of feeling bad for causing the return of the dust devil, she simply said, “Well, you shouldn’t have stepped on that dung beetle.”

If you ever visit Raven Ridge, speak not of my bad beetle behavior because apparently dung beetles have long memories, and when it comes to me, are unforgiving.