Where The Rabbit Still Sings

The Tongva Indians were among the first known settlers of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. In their vibrant culture, music was far more than entertainment — it was a vital part of daily life, deeply woven into their beliefs, celebrations, and even conflicts.

One of the most remarkable traditions was the practice of song fights. In these ritualized battles, rival groups would engage in days-long exchanges of insulting songs, their voices raised in fierce competition while feet pounded the earth in rhythm. Music held power: it could heal, it could harm, and it could unite a community.

But when the Spanish arrived, the music fell silent.

With the arrival of Spanish settlers and the establishment of the San Gabriel Mission, the Tongva’s way of life was forever altered. They were stripped of their land and forced to labor under harsh conditions. Disease, violence, and exploitation decimated their population. The Tongva were renamed “Gabrielinos,” meaning people of the San Gabriel Mission, and marched miles from their ancestral homes to build and serve at the mission, often as slave laborers.

It was during this dark chapter that the legend of Tovemur Rock was born.

According to Tongva lore, Tovemur — whose name translates to Little Rabbit — was the tribe’s very first singer and dancer. Her voice carried the spirit of the people, her songs said to have brought life and strength to those around her. As their world crumbled, it is told that Tovemur’s body turned to stone, preserving her spirit within the rock so she could never be silenced.

The rock remains a sacred place, a reminder of the Peninsula’s first people and their enduring connection to this land.

Visitors today are welcome to make the hike down to Tovemur Rock. Many choose to bring offerings of song or prayer, just as generations have done before. Some who visit say they’ve been blessed with her music — faint singing carried on the wind or the soft cries of a dancer long gone.

When the tide is just right, the waves crash against the stone, and the sound transforms. In that moment, if you listen closely, you may hear Tovemur’s voice rising once more — a gentle reminder that this will always be Tongva land.