When I took a hike the other day at Taos Valley Overlook, I came across this little arroyo near the cliffs by the Rio Pueblo and decided to jump down inside!
It sure was nice in there. I keep thinking I’ll find something marvelous where the soil is cut away like that. I dunno, bones, artifacts, or fossils, maybe. Mystical shiny rocks. A chunk of a UFO. A rusty pistol. Diamonds!—or the secret of my life. But not this time, alas. In a similar but wider arroyo in the hills above where we live, I once uncovered what had to be hand-laid stones from an old wall about six feet from the surface. I’ve forgotten the location, but Indian ruins, for sure, and old ones. The pottery fragments around here are easily 1,000 years old. So the dirt is full of treasure, if only colorful stones.
There’s a metaphor here, I know it.