The heart-shaking thumping of a large wood-carved drum had echoed throughout the small, enclosed shelter at Deer Creek Park for more than an hour recently before Mike Floyd got up to go check the weather.

Seconds later, he reappeared and announced to an excited crowd, “We’re going to take this thing outside.”

With a light breeze blowing on a brisk but sunny spring day, Floyd and eight other men set up and continued the rhythmic drumming.

“This is a day to celebrate and we have a lot to celebrate,” Floyd said to the crowd in between songs. Looking up and raising his hand toward the sky, he added, “Look at this beautiful day! The weatherman said it was supposed to snow today, so we have a lot to celebrate.”

An ogema, or chief, of the Eel River Tribe of Indiana, Floyd helped to bring together members of around 10 tribes for a local drum ceremony in conjunction with 8,000 Drums.

The internationally recognized ceremony got its start several years ago when two Huron grandmothers conceived of it as a way to fulfill an old native prophecy, and events like the one in Deer Creek were held worldwide at noon Friday as part of the prayer to heal Mother Earth.

Floyd, who is also the drum keeper for the Eel River Tribe, said the ceremony has been slowly gaining momentum during the last few years but really seemed to take off this year.

“The drum is the heartbeat of Mother Earth,” said Floyd. “When the last drum stops, so do we. So we have to keep it going.”

The main circle of drummers included men of all ages, dressed in a mix of traditional-inspired and modern clothing. The drum circle grew throughout the day and included several younger men that Floyd said he hopes continue the tradition.

Outside the main circle, others kept the rhythm on individual drums of all kinds. One person even beat the bottom of a plastic bucket. The collective thumping resonated throughout the park, at times swelling to a sound like distant thunder.

Most of the songs were sung by the men in the main circle, but 15-year-old Ashley Barnhill joined in for one special song at around midday.

The Bloomington, Ill., native whose Pottawatomie name is Sings on the Wind, performed a native song called “Tú Kasla,” or “Grandfather,” which asks for strength from the Grandfather.

Barnhill said she has been singing as long as she can remember but only began performing at events like 8,000 Drums about two years ago.

“It’s just always been second nature to me,” she said. “... I just love to sing. It’s a feeling like no one can touch you.”

Floyd explained the meaning of other songs to the crowd. Some, he said, were warrior songs, calling to those brave enough to stand up and fight. Others dealt with themes of spirituality and relationships.