Today I went to see the petroglyphs in southwestern Minnesota (the 'Jeffers Petroglyphs').
The first written history in all of Minnesota was recorded some 7,000 to 9,000 years ago by the ancestors of native mid-western tribes. After belittling and disregarding native knowledge for so long, even the MN Historical Society must admit: "Minnesota’s recorded history begins at Jeffers, where American Indians have been coming for thousands of years to worship and record the story of their lives."
Until this day, I have never seen anything of human origin that is so ancient. There is a feeling of deep wisdom and wonder in this place -- a feeling of wisdom that is even older than the oldest trees I have known. This place contains the wisdom of stone. It was here when glaciers scratched across its surface. It knew the footsteps of human ancestors long ago. And it also knew the lap of inland seas -- resting at the feet of glaciers -- which are long gone, but whose waves you can hear in the shifting grasses, and whose ripples you can see etched in red granite rock. I could not help but feel humbled at such a place.
It is no wonder that it was and is a sacred site.
The first written history in all of Minnesota was recorded some 7,000 to 9,000 years ago by the ancestors of native mid-western tribes. After belittling and disregarding native knowledge for so long, even the MN Historical Society must admit: "Minnesota’s recorded history begins at Jeffers, where American Indians have been coming for thousands of years to worship and record the story of their lives."
Until this day, I have never seen anything of human origin that is so ancient. There is a feeling of deep wisdom and wonder in this place -- a feeling of wisdom that is even older than the oldest trees I have known. This place contains the wisdom of stone. It was here when glaciers scratched across its surface. It knew the footsteps of human ancestors long ago. And it also knew the lap of inland seas -- resting at the feet of glaciers -- which are long gone, but whose waves you can hear in the shifting grasses, and whose ripples you can see etched in red granite rock. I could not help but feel humbled at such a place.
It is no wonder that it was and is a sacred site.
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