Third Field Expedition

I feel incredibly lucky to have been pared with Christine for our field expedition groups not just because Christine is one cool cat but also because she brings her kids along on our expeditions.

Christine, Christine’s little girl who she sweetly calls “Mama,” Christine’s fourth grader named Brandon, and I visited the Petroglyph National Monument this last Saturday.

Walking up the Boca Negra Canyon, this was the first petroglyph we encountered:

Brandon announced to us, "That's a lizard holding a lollipop." I thought to myself I don't think the Puebloan people had lollipops but then again I wasn't around so what do I know. I rather like the idea of a lazy lizard languidly licking a lemon lollipop. It's charming.

Continuing up the canyon, we found this etching:

"This is a large man with a very long tail with all of his children and the pack of dogs he owns," Brandon deciphered for Christine and me.

Whenever I look at a photograph or an illustration with a child I am always surprised by the amount of detail they notice. They notice the little pink nose sticking out from under the chair where the mouse is hiding or the cake crumbs dropped on the rug that I miss. I believe this has something to do with how children are often overlooked for being small themselves; hence they're especially sensitive to small details and happenings. Observing the petroglyphs with Brandon was no exception. He didn't miss a thing.

He pointed out "a face with a puckered mouth next to a string of beads," "a drum besides two fish swimming in the same direction," "a bird with another bird on its back," and "a sideways snake face." We saw three of these sideways snake faces so they must have been important.

I was fascinated by our varied ways of reading the basic animal, people, brand, and cross designs. Our petroglyph viewing started to seem like cross-generational inkblot experiment. I started to wonder whether there was a right and wrong way to view the petroglyphs. The carvers, unfortunately, did not leave behind any kind of artistic statement for us to authenticate our interpretations against. Historians, anthropologist, archeologists, and other experts of the American Southwest would undoubtedly assert the accuracy of their explications. But I'm just a fiction writer who (along with Dillard and Lopez) could learn a lot from a child's intuitive and simple interpretations.

So here's a test of sorts... What do you see in the picture below? What would Brandon see?