I wonder why people are driven to seek out places like this in the desert, signs and memories of humans from hundreds and thousands of years ago, ancestors of the living indigenous people.
Painted potsherds lying among soil and sand one can almost see the artist’s fingertips and hands.
Art pecked into stone. Memories of a foreign (to me at least) consciousness imprinted into the landscape. Culture embedded into geology.
And places like this. Small delicate structure on a cliff edge. For a moment one is removed from this world we have constructed and reminded that for millennia other worlds existed, incomprehensible perceptions viewed through human eyes, just as real of our current lives.
For me it’s the seemingly incomprehensible well of human consciousness that gives me wonder. And I sometimes think this spectrum of human awareness is a vast as the space which surrounds our planet.
Nocturnal Wanderings 