I must have walked a million miles in my day. Well, maybe not quite a million, but certainly many, many miles.
Part of an archaeologist’s work is looking for sites, and often that means walking. Walking across fields, across pastures, across sandy blow-outs. Walking and looking. Walking and paying attention. It became so much a part of my being that even today, 15 years after retiring, I still look down at the ground when I’m walking.
Surveying like that was almost an exercise in meditation. Be aware of your destination. Be aware of your route. Set a slow but steady pace. And eyes down sweeping from side to side.
Pace. Pace. Pace. Eyes centre. Left. Centre. Right. Centre.
About 75% of the brain is set to recognize known shapes, sizes, colours, textures. But the other 25% has to be alert to the unknown, the unexpected, the “Hmm, I wonder what that is?” moment.
Pace. Pace. Pace. Eyes centre. Left. Centre. Right. Centre.
That rhythm stopped for only two reasons. One, I found something. Stop, pick it up, examine it. Is it anything? Yes? Then record, map, collect. No? Put it back.
Pace. Pace. Pace. Eyes centre. Left. Centre. Right. Centre.
The other reason to stop was simply for the joy of stopping. For the joy of seeing where I was. To breath the air. To stretch my eyes to the horizon (remember what I wrote about Saskatchewan’s horizon?). To listen to a Killdeer or a Meadowlark sing their hearts out, to watch a hawk fly overhead, to wait for a Mule Deer to decide if I presented a threat to her, to watch a coyote watching me with a wary eye as it loped across the hill top. To listen to the breeze. To watch the ripening grain ripple in the wind. To simply experience where I was. To realize how fortunate I was to be in that place at that time. To be.
Pace. Pace. Pace. Eyes centre. Left. Centre. Right. Centre.
I walked across a good part of Saskatchewan – farmers’ fields and pastures, the Missouri Couteau, the Qu’Appelle River valley – but no matter where or when, it was always the same.
Pace. Pace. Pace. Eyes centre. Left. Centre. Right. Centre.
And I still do it today.
#ArchaeologicalSurveying #Reconnaisance #Memories #Meditation #Contemplation #Walking #Awareness #NonFiction #MargaretGHanna
A Prairie Perspective 
That’s a very Buddhist way of walking Margaret, total focus and mindfulness. The problem we all face on such walks though are those random thoughts that keep popping into our head ….. what’s for lunch, what time was my doctor’s appointment, did I remember to ……
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Thanks, Dr. B. It’s so very easy for the mind to go off somewhere other than where we are at the time. I think that’s one reason I would stop and look about — a mental reset as much as an assessment of how far off the right-of-way I was.
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I must say I’m really enjoying my walking this way at present. After my hip replacement last year it’s been a slow process of being able to walk any distance and into the countryside. Since my personal goal however I’ve now managed to be able to walk 4 miles in one go but I mostly do 2.5 in the morning and the same in the afternoon. I listen to Buddhist related books or texts as I go in the morning but silently in the afternoon. It is extremely relaxing as well as being spiritual of course. High winds here at present so timing is everything!
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I love walking in nature and am so fortunate to have 80+ acres of pasture for our walks. Of course today it’s -35 with the wind chill and it’s so flipping icy that watching steps is all about now falling rather than the wonderful sound of meadowlarks!
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So true, but keep in mind the snow will leave and the Meadowlarks will return.
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I actually love winter – I just dislike ice and wind. And yes the next season is always just around the corner.
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