One of my lifelong obsessions has been petroglyphs. It’s hard to explain the effect they have on me. When I stand before them, I can feel the centuries melting away. I can hear the sounds of rock on rock. I can almost sense the artists standing there, contemplating their work, and it seems as though they are aware of me, too, because all art is made so that others can bear witness. They were thinking of me, and of all the others who would gaze upon their work, while they were creating it. It’s a magical feeling.
If only we could speak to one another. I’d ask them what stories they intended to tell. The primary one is rather obvious. Every artist, past, present, and future, is saying, “I was here.” Humans seem to be hardwired to leave their mark. Is it because everyone longs for a sense of immortality?
But what else were they saying? “This is our territory. Strangers beware.” “This is what we believe.” “This is how we survive.” “These are our rituals, ceremonies, and pastimes.” “Here there is good hunting.” “This is what we did.” “This is what happened to us.” “These are our gods, demons, and shamans.” “This is what our chief saw during a really bad trip. You might want to avoid the peyote.”
I really want to know these things. If the artists and I could sit beside these rocks after their carving day was done, as the sun sank below the horizon, and the stones released their heat, I’d ask these people about their lives, and what inspired them to make art a priority when mere survival must have required so much effort. I’d ask them about their dreams and aspirations.
The thing that put me into full-on petroglyph mode today was an article entitled, “Bronze Age rock carvings found perfectly preserved under thick moss blanket”. It included photographs of the most gorgeous petroglyphs I’ve ever seen in my life. It seems that the Bohuslän region of Sweden contains so many Bronze Age petroglyphs that it has been designated a Unesco World Heritage Site.
The petroglyphs in that area, collectively, are called the Tanum Petroglyphs, and there are thousands of them scattered over a total of 126 acres. They used to be on the coastline of Sweden, but the waters have receded about 82 feet, so, needless to say, many of these carvings are now high up on the rocks. That’s how these newfound additions to the collection were able to remain undetected under a moss blanket for so long.
I have got to visit that place someday. There is a Museum there called Vitlycke that will even give you a petroglyph tour in the summer. (As if my travel bucket list weren’t already 10 miles long, and mostly out of reach because the pandemic put everything on hold, and my time and money are both very finite. But a girl can dream.)
This article reminded me that I have a petroglyph bias. I tend to think of them as being the work of the indigenous people of North America, full stop. That’s because I’ve seen so many of them in my region.
I’ve blogged about many of the petroglyphs I’ve seen. I hope you’ll read those posts about the Valley of Fire in Nevada. the Pu’uloa Petroglyphs on the big island of Hawaii, the many stunning petroglyphs in various locations around Moab, Utah. I’ve also seen them in Ginko Petrified Forest State Park here in Washington state, and a Navajo showed me a few in Canyon De Chelly, Arizona, right before I risked my life to save a dog. I’ve also seen them in other locations, such as Puerto Rico, El Morro (also known as Inscription Rock), Mesa Verde, and Albuquerque, but that was long before I had a blog.
So, yes, for me, it’s easy to forget that there are petroglyphs virtually everywhere that there are rocks. Check out this list of petroglyph sites around the world, and this one for the United States alone. The numbers are daunting.
Maybe my affinity for petroglyphs comes from my Viking ancestors, who surely took part in the carving of runestones. It does feel as though I’m connecting with the past when I gaze at petroglyphs, and, oddly, it feels quite personal. Regardless, if I’m going to make a dent in my quest to see more of these stony creations throughout the world, I definitely have my work cut out for me.
So much to see. So little time…
Travel vicariously through this blog. And while you’re at it, check out my book! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5
Leave a Reply