March 23…. Rocks and more rocks. And stuff.

I thought Susy was crazy about trees. Big old live oak trees. She swooned every time she was near one. But she might just be crazier for rocks.

We’re exploring some hills in Homolovi State Park near Winslow AZ. I’m walking around looking at the view from the hills, off into the distance at the wild donkeys, and all the pretty rocks spread across the hillside.

Long long ago, however many million years ago, this area was under water, then it wasn’t, then it was. Over and over. There’s a lot of sandstone, and volcanic rock, but interestingly, there are tons and tons of small rocks that were obviously washed by running water. Smooth rounded edges. A hundred different colors and patterns. Bejeweled gravel from a magic river bed. Reds and greens. Black and white. Patterns and stripes. In the high desert that has not seen water in ages. They said this area might get 8 inches of rain in a year. Back home, we can get 8 inches in a weekend.

Susanne is beside herself, stooping to pick one up, then dropping it for a more interesting specimen inches away. Making small piles of colorful pieces everywhere she steps, then losing track of her last pile and starting a new one.

This whole park is based on several archeological sites. Excavations of ancestral Hopi Indian villages, dating back 600 to 800 years.

We walked thru a couple of the sites yesterday and could see TONS of artifacts. Stone tools, pottery pieces. Remains of pueblo walls. Sobering to think that the history of this area did not start in 1492 when Columbus or the Spaniards showed up. People were living here in two and three story houses for a couple hundred years prior.

And then they just left. Prior to 1400, they moved on. Abandoned all of their farms and houses. Left possessions behind. Moved 60 miles north and merged with other Hopi groups. Who knows.