The ‘Why’ of Archaeology vs Selling History. - The Armchair Marcaeologist

The ‘Why’ of Archaeology vs Selling History. - The Armchair Marcaeologist

It is up to us to protect and preserve our shared heritage!

An unusual sight!

In all modesty, I am pretty good at spotting birds, no matter the conditions. 

I drove a friend and his son home from school one day last winter when it actually snowed in Tucson. I am not a fan of snow, not anymore at least. One archaeological season working in northern Arizona during the winter of '76 cured me of loving snow forever.

Here I am on my way back home driving near Lakeside Park in the sleet when a large bird cruises across the road ahead about twenty feet up. Instantly my brain says 'osprey'! Then the unlikely nature of this ID hits me and I'm off in the direction the bird went to get a good look. 

One erratic tour of the neighborhood later I see my quarry perched high on antenna in the middle of one of those acre-sized properties.Ever ready I only had my little phone camera with me so the shot you see above is the best I could get in the sleet. Trust me when I say that I got a good enough look to realize I was right again -- it was an osprey wintering in Tucson near Lakeside Park -- I guess it all made sense. 

I bet he was as pissed off as I was about the snow. We both came to Tucson to get away from such nonsense. 

Hot shot bird!

I do love birds.

So yesterday I'm on my way home and driving down Fifth two blocks from home. It's noon and hot -- we have been threatening to hit record highs all week. The monsoon is lurking around, we got a good drenching the night before.

I'm approaching the bridge over the wash, there are railings on either side made from 2inch in diameter pipes. Just before I get there a variegated streak appears before me. She slips between the bars about three feet off the ground gliding like Death herself searching for unsuspecting doves.

I stopped and watched her continue on down the wash away from her nest in a nearby eucalyptus tree. Her parenting is done for this season so all you male Cooper's beware, she wants no sight of interlopers in her hunting territory.

I got the picture shown above off FB from an Audubon posting. It shows a female Cooper's in mid flight but my sighting yesterday was gliding flat like a knife blade through the air.

When I think on bygone times, June, 2009

So now I am grandfather of two, Joseph R. Mina and Andrew B. Cech born March 4th, 2009. Meghan is a mom, Amanda is a mom and Sarah is becoming a doctor. My own baby, Samantha will be twenty-three this August. I feel old. My great Uncle Lefty, Alfred Frank Zelsdorf passed away in February, at the age of 94. He was my mom's favorite uncle and the last real connection to her. Susan's brother Michael also passed this year, on the 4th of March, the same day Andrew was born, within half an hour of the event, in fact. "In the midst of life, we are all in death."

Watching birds

This is a follow-up on the last entry. As we stood around waiting for the tram yesterday I saw a large heron fly over the park and off toward the mountains. It reminded me of the tour I did to Ventana cave and the Children's Shrine for the Arizona Archaeological and Historical Society about nine years ago.

As I am driving into the village of Santa Rosa, approaching the Children's Shrine there was a great blue heron standing in the middle of the road. It was simultaneously both incongruous and synchronised. We were in the middle of the Sonoran desert but we were there to visit the most sacred water site known to the O'odham.

I am not a person who goes anywhere to watch birds -- I just watch birds wherever I go. Taking this theme a little farther some years ago I was on my way down Speedway and saw a large bird flying high over the city traveling NW to SE. I immediately swerved across two lanes, and made a U-turn to try and follow the bird for as long as I could to try and ID it. I was hoping it was an eagle but eventually I figured out by the slow wing beat and general body shape it was a water bird -- a heron, again. Having discovered parts of Tucson neighborhoods I had never visited before and pissed off enough other drivers I resumed my original trek.

As Dr. Bil Hawkins would have said, "This AADD moment has been brought to you by . . ."

Another Walk

The girls and Joseph prepare to help Mary go wading at Sabino one last time.

Mary has gone on a new walk. For sixteen years I was lucky enough to be able to call her my adopted Mom. Today we released her mortal remains to wander Sabino and wherever else she chooses to go. It was a good place, cliffs, water, trees, a stretch of creek lined beach and people she loved, even more it was the canyon she loved.

She had told me once she wanted a handful of her ashes left on the trail to Pueblo Alto, also the trail to Wijiji, at sundown, the great kiva at Casa Rinconada and in the plaza of Penasco Blanco. She also wanted some left at the Village of the Great Kivas, at Hawikuh, Kinishba, Awatovi, Antelope House and Aztec. I remember I laughed and told her there wasn't enough of her to go around so Sabino would have to do.

She packed a lot of life into the last twenty years. I don't think she would give back any of it.

Perhaps my clearest picture of her is her toddling into The Inn at Farmington early one morning, having taken a brisk walk along the Animas River trail, couple of miles just to get herself ready for the day. I meanwhile, was dragging my rusty butt up to try and wolf down breakfast before we were scheduled to leave. She was a force of nature, a great companion of unflagging good humor who was always happiest to be off on another adventure. I can only hope she will enjoy this one near as much as all the others.