On May 3, 2022, the Yurok Tribe successfully released the first pair of condors, out of a group of four, in Redwood National and State Parks, establishing the northernmost condor release area to date, and reclaiming a significant part of their former historic range, from which they’ve been absent since 1892.
-U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
“For countless generations, the Yurok people have upheld a sacred responsibility to maintain balance in the natural world. Condor reintroduction is a real-life manifestation of our cultural commitment to restore and protect the planet for future generations. It is a historical moment in the Yurok Tribe, as we introduce our
condors back home, providing that balance for us. Our prayers are answered.”
-Joseph L. James, Chairman of the Yurok Tribe
Skies emptied of deep black glide, a century’s poached air, no ruff feather-wide, no steady unflapping soar carving clean horizons overhead. Lead-bellied, no peach heads hooded from shorn necks, no bonded flocks, no bone-shattering beaks breaking down carrion mass, no apex, no waterfall take-off. Winnowing language, will an ancestry go extinct alongside a bird, colonizers damming native land, rights of a people to their own water? Bring back the Condor, the Prey-go-neesh to its peak, bring back tribal sovereignty, remove the dam, buy back the land, back to the Klamath’s corridors of wind, restore the jump dance, the white deerskin dance, with condor feathers, the messenger and its message. And the silencers’ ears to hear it. When the Yurok said Bring back, they said it fully, they gave us a map for listening, a land for healing in condor time.
First, came Paaytoqim, the “Come back” bird, meant to be mentor, teach a quartet of condors to remember a Northern homeland. Steady and calm, he centered the young, chased off turkey vultures, taught stature and order, social survival.
Then, Poy’-we-son the one who goes ahead village guide, releases into wild gliding along that first sojourn exploring two weeks before return.
Nes-kwe-chokw’ follows, confident, cautious, a-watch for the others keeps closer to base He returns He arrives.
Then, Ney-gem’ ‘Ne-chweenkah’ sole female of the maiden flight She carries our prayers life-force, creator, she carries the beginnings of the flock, taking time to learn how to fly free.
Hlow Hoo-let joins last, At last I fly! Ready, ready! Joyous day! The first flock opens the air once more.
Hear, Home. Here. Language like water. Flying again. Hear Prey-go-neesh Keeh Ke-Me’-Yehl Condors have come home. On Yurok land.
Jennifer K. Sweeney (she/her) is the author of five poetry collections: Foxlogic, Fireweed (Backwaters Press/Univ. of Nebraska), Little Spells, How to Live on Bread and Music, which received the James Laughlin Award, the Perugia Press Prize and a nomination for the Poets’ Prize, and Salt Memory. The collaborative chapbook, Dear Question, with L.I. Henley, was published in late 2024 from Glass Lyre Press. The recipient of a Pushcart Prize, her poems have appeared widely in journals, most recently in About Place, Cider Press Review, Guesthouse, Orion, Poetry Northwest, Rogue Agent, Sixth Finch, The Shore, Terrain, Waxwing.
