Places of the ancients contain, along with potsherds, petroglyphs, and lithics, a magical component, a timeless energy waiting for 21st century humans to discover. For some individuals it is an overwhelming impulse, a fog not of visible vapor but of antiquity that surrounds the body and touches the soul. At the other end of the spectrum, the energy merely pushes away those that will not hear or feel the magic. Between the two ends, the enchantment of the ancients affects people in almost as many ways as there are individuals. During my times as a tour-guide at a prehistoric Mogollon site, I was privileged to witness the reactions of hundreds of people to the ancient ways and spirituality of those that were here before. Some people are full of questions of science and archeology or my observations and interpretations; some are very quiet as if not wanting to disturb the spirits of the ancient ones; some have tears in their eyes or a gentle song on their lips; some become stressed and agitated as if stirred by some inner conflict.

As a tour-guide of the ancient places, a teacher given a sacred trust, I witnessed too many amazing reactions to write off as coincidence. Generally at least small changes occurred during the two hour tour to most of the people in attendance. Some experienced wonders that were difficult to verbalize due to the intensity of the moment or restrictions of our 21st century civilization. When I was confided in their individual sensations I understood and was grateful; for a couple of years now I have been a part of this enchantment of antiquity. If you are fortunate enough to be in the ancient places with other people, watch their reactions. And free your mind to the possibilities of ancient energies.

Louie and I have discovered many prehistoric sites in our new home in the canyonlands. We haven’t found them, they were never lost; we are just new visitors to places visited by many over the centuries. Shelter caves, old pueblos, chipping grounds, hunting camps; each site has its own story, archeology, and energy. This evening I cooked my dinner outside in a firepit over juniper coals. The air temperature was a little cool but the cloudless sky precluded being inside. As the sun approached the western hills and I began to cook, the heat of the fire felt good. The well-seasoned juniper wood was nearly smokeless, but maintained its distinctive aroma on the light breeze. After eating I put some small juniper branches in the fire to light the way for the stars appearing in the darkening sky. At such times under the stars beside my little blaze, the spirits of the ancients feel very close. At such times perhaps they danced; they had every reason to.