posted August 16, 2004 11:21 PM         

“This is the spot,” I told two Eyes.

“What?”

“Here. I want to go into the forest here.”

“Well, OK, but really, don’t you think you’re a little far from everything?”

“I like my privacy, “ I said.

posted August 16, 2004 11:22 PM         

I looked around the darkening forest. They were here! I didn’t just feel it. I could see it. A lot of stuff that looks like rocks and potholes and hills to the untrained eye shows up clearly as tools and graves and villages to the archaeologist. Two Eyes is a sea mammal guy in the same way that I am a Religion / Metaphysical girl, but any archaeologist could see that there was the south end of a village here, probably about a thousand years ago. It had slumped almost into oblivion.

posted August 17, 2004 02:03 AM         

“Go past it, “ her voice said. I don’t know who “her” was, but she seemed quite familiar.

“What?” I have lots of lucid dreams, but when they are brought on by long distance travel, removal from everything one knows, severe dietary restriction, and emersion in a specific culture, they tend to be way more vivid.
The female voice sounded like an echo in the tunnels of time.

“Don’t dwell on their feet,” she said. “Look to their hearts.”

posted August 17, 2004 02:04 AM         

“You have taken our ways to become one of us,” she said. “If you are us, then we are you. Do the urges of humans differ so much from the urges of salmon? We go. We know not why, but we go. All have the same urge. Speak to your heart if you would find ours ”

Flipper (the TV dolphin) appeared in the lagoon where the skiff landed us earlier. (This was a dream, remember.) He tossed a ball on his nose. After a couple of bounces, he passed the ball to me. It turned out to be made of woven cedar bark. It came apart in the middle. Inside was a Faberge egg. Drumbeats, but sounding like they are coming from a music box, started. A door opened up in the middle of the egg and a dolphin leapt around a circle of sea like one of those cartoon kuku clocks. It was followed closely by an ancient canoe full of hunters, spears poised to find its heart. A shaman knelt in the back of the canoe, invoking the spirits, urging the men on. An eagle in the air (supported by a little lever from the back of the clock) dropped unexpectedly and snatched the shaman from the canoe. It screamed its piercing call and dropped him onto the back of the dolphin. The two merged and became a mermaid. She bolted to the shore. Once she touched land, her dolphin fins turned to legs. She leapt up and ran into the woods.

Once there, she walked through the door of one of the long houses and lay down beside a fire pit. An old, old woman with the whitest of hair knelt over her.

“It is done,” the old woman said. “The circle with the dolphin woman is complete.”

The eagle looked into the door of the longhouse and began to talk that screechy eagle talk I’ve heard so many times.

“What…what…what do you want? Eagles are lovely creatures, but my tent is the most comfortable place ever known to mankind. My sleeping bag is heaven. What now ravens, too? OK I’m up. ”

posted August 17, 2004 02:06 AM         

I slipped out into the early dawn. Early dawn in this part of Canada in July is about 4 am. I wandered through he rain forest down to the beach. Actually, now that I think about it, it looked much like a trail I saw in a dream many months ago. I wrote to Ra about it. Wow. Ok, that’s a whole other thread. Anyway, I walked through the quiet majesty of the rain forest to the beach where the young eagle waited very impatiently. I stood near a tidal pool where a little life cycle evolved.

posted August 17, 2004 02:09 AM         

They landed in a tree and began to pick insignificant bits off the surrounding foliage and drop it to the ground. I smiled.

posted August 17, 2004 02:11 AM         

After breakfast, we went to the first site. There was a large area, which as I said before, would look pretty natural to the untrained eye. Al and Denis showed me around. We walked the length and breadth of an old village, probably a site that ranged from 500 to 1000 years old. It could have been much older at the base. Old tales tell of the First Place and describe it. No recent tales have come forward of this place. That is actually encouraging. If a place were inhabited so shortly ago that people remember where it was, it probably isn’t the oldest of places. The only hint about the history of this place comes from a famous coastal historic village. They are the ones who, over 100 years ago, said that they no longer lived on this island because it was the world of the old ones. It was the First Island. And that was all. No further tales, only a respect and avoidance.

I walked to the spot that the eagle and ravens had indicated earlier. It felt like a strong magnet and I was a pile of iron shavings.

“I want to dig here,” I said.

“What???” Two Eyes was right beside me in his excavation unit.

Normally, when deciding where to dig in a newly discovered area, archaeologists use one of several different methods to plot a graph of test pits and/ or excavation units. The difference is that a test pit is about a shovel blade width in circumference and a couple of shovel lengths deep. An excavation unit is typically two meters square and an interminable depth (until sterile layers are reached). I wanted to put in an excavation unit in a most unusual place.

The spot that called me was directly adjacent to the unit where Two Eyes was digging.

“I missed the high status area by one square?” Two Eyes looked at me incredulously. “Instead of digging at the next indicated test pit, you want to dig right next to my unit because you think there will be something radically different there?”

Two Eyes was a trifle tense because he was one of the in-charge people on this dig. He was supposed to corral the young chiefs, which I think anyone who is even involved to the point of reading this would consider unfair. I mean, the man isn’t even 30 years old yet. Give him a break. But still, I had to dig where I had to dig.

“ Yep,” I said. “I want to dig right here.”

Most of the time people would tell you to p*ss off and think you were a complete prima donna if you pulled that kind of trip on a dig, but I have a history with this kind of thing.

Oh no. Now I have to tell you about Hayduke. This hurts. Maybe tomorrow. I just want to say up front that Hayduke is my hero and I wouldn’t be half the archaeologist I am today without him. He makes Indiana Jones look like an amateur. I need to think about how I will talk about him. Good night.

posted August 17, 2004 03:32 AM         

Keep it coming, FishKitten...I am so much enjoying this...

posted August 17, 2004 02:52 PM         

I do write for a living these days, only fitting in archaeology when I can, but I can't imagine who would want to publish a story like this one. I'm not exactly famous, so I kind of doubt that it would hold the interest of the average stranger. You guys are different, because you are my friends. (I think we can have cyberspace friends. Why not?)

I have, however, been working on a book idea for about a year now. I have a lot of it organised and, quite honestly, it was on this adventure that the ending to the book finally came to me. Ra might be glad to hear that. I have been promising to send him some pages for many months now. Finally, after all the spirals created by this trip, I think I am ready to go forward with it.

But, that is a completely different thing. I will finish the story of this adventure first...and judging by the current length of it, I'd better learn to be a bit more succinct. Otherwise, THIS will be a book.

I promise to try to finish the part about Hayduke tonight. Bring your box of tissues...this part is sadder than you know. See, now I'm starting to get misty-eyed here at my office. Good thing I'm the only one who works here. No more thoughts of the mighty Hayduke until later.

posted August 18, 2004 02:32 PM         

FishKitten...

I'm sorry that the tale of Hayduke causes you pain, perhaps in the telling of the tale, you will be relieved of some of your burden. I send you Light and thoughts of Peace to help mend your heart and Soul.

Why wouldn't there be people out there that want to read this story? If it involves the tale of a Spiritual quest or revelation, it might be of interest to more seekers than you think... who is to say that you should not BECOME famous by the telling of it?

I don't recall any dreams from the Blue Moon, but I will meditate on that thought and see what comes.

Blessings of Love, Peace and Light...
A

posted August 18, 2004 07:47 PM         

Hayduke is a quiet-spoken man. His wiry, lean frame stands about six foot one. His legendary skinniness was the topic of many jokes. Skinny as a whip and twice as tough. He looks like an old cowboy…and that is exactly what he is, to some extent. Not that he has ever worked on a ranch. Hayduke has been an archaeologist since God was a baby. But he has explored and excavated in deserts, jungles, islands, fjords, and above the artic circle. His face is deeply lined and permanently tanned. It also has a very stubborn set to the chin and clear blue eyes that show an obvious sharp intelligence.

posted August 18, 2004 07:50 PM         

Our transportation consisted of two large twelve-passenger Suburbans and an old pick up truck. Of necessity, when we did go into the small town of about 300 people that was closest to our camp, we went everywhere in a mob. We were rather conspicuous, to put it mildly. Hayduke was the heart and soul of our group. He told the stories of the beginnings of modern archaeology. He was a riot.

Hayduke and his wife bought a wonderful little cabin on twenty acres in the area where we were digging. As I mentioned, he was about to retire. His idea of a dream retirement was to live on top of a sweet little hill at the edge of the forest where he believed the old ones first walked. He planned to spend his summer days doing what he loves most…walking along the Pleistocene sea terraces and look for the illusive traces of the first people. In the winter, he and the wife would snuggle in front of the fire and maybe write up some of his adventures.

posted August 18, 2004 07:54 PM         

“Could I start somewhere else?” I asked.

“What?”

“I’d like to dig over there,” I pointed to a spot about two squares over.

“Why there?” he asked, a little annoyed.

“I like the way it feels over there,” I said.

“Archaeology is science. It is about using scientific methods to test rational theories,” he glared at me a little. This was during the first week we were there, so he and I didn’t know each other very well by then.

“Of course it is,” I said. “So does that mean I can dig over there?”

posted August 18, 2004 07:57 PM         

“Ummm…”

“What now?” he had the look of one resigned to any insane possibility.

“Could I dig one meter to the East?”

“One meter to the East? You want to dig one meter to the East.” He rolled his eyes. “OK, dig wherever you want. I’m too busy to argue this with you right now.” And he stomped off through the forest to deal with one of the million things he had to manage during a typical day.

posted August 18, 2004 08:00 PM         

That is why when I said I wanted to dig in the unit right next to the one Two Eyes was in, Al just shrugged and said, “Have at it.”

posted August 18, 2004 08:03 PM         

“Yeah,” I said, putting my dig kit next to my unit, ”It was the best time I ever had in my life.”

A head popped up from a nearby unit. “You were on the Dream Team? I heard about that dig. You guys are a legend.”

“We did have fun.” I smiled as the warm memories rushed over me.

“Well, have you heard about Hayduke?” Al asked.

Something about the way he asked made my skin run cold. I sat down on a root.

“What about him?”