It is not logic that drives my passion.

I use logic to make my case, prove my point, explain why I believe what I do.

It is never logic, however, that makes my heart pound in my ears when truth hits me. It’s belief.

From 1861 to 1864, nearly 11,000 union soldiers camped on and around our farm. Metal detectors have been waving their instruments over the ground my whole life and digging up treasures—bullets, buckles, tools, and other various metal objects the soldiers and camp staff left behind over 150 years ago.

“Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.” ~ Pueblo

There’s another kind of treasure on our ground, though, and it fascinates me.

In nearly every hole the metal detectors dig, they find evidence of Native American inhabitants that lived here approximately 5,000 years ago.

We find evidence of these first inhabitants of this continent and I can’t seem to get enough. It leads to arrowhead analysis, in depth discussions about flint knapping, early tool production and usage, customs, beliefs, migration patterns across the continents, and lots (and lots) of questions and theories. My best friend has been into this for most of his life and he keeps me supplied with both fresh and foundational research material. I read and highlight and then we discuss. We ponder. We dream.

“Someone like me dropped this,” I think, “a person dropped this.” A person with hopes, dreams, fears, and quiet desires of the heart. Maybe she had long, brown hair and a baby swaddled on her body. Maybe he was out hunting for deer to impress his father, or the pretty girl he saw by the fire the night before.

We believe these items retain energy from the one who shaped them, carried them, and dropped them. The energy from some artifacts moves me and comforts me. Some of them give me the heebie jeebies and I return them to their resting place with well wishes.

Whatever they are, whatever story they bring with them, they all stir my soul.

Who knows how many interesting artifacts we have stepped over and not recognized their significance. To the untrained eye, arrowhead pieces just look like rocks. Flint tools wouldn’t draw your attention and make you gasp. Yet, they are fascinating relics right under our feet.

Next time you’re walking near a creek bed, look down. Slow down. You never know what you might find.

This is some 5,000 year old amazingly dorky stuff we do.

And we love it.

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Author: ML Broxton

Apprentice Editor: Kristen Bagwill / Editor: Catherine Monkman

Image: ML Broxton

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