Ancient Ones

While having my coffee this morning, watching the sun come up over the Sycamores, by the creek, I am mindful of the ruins of an ancient civilization that lived here, hundreds of years before the coming of the White man.

This area, of Middle Tennessee, in the age of Stone, must have been a veritable wonderland to the ancient ones that lived here. They lived in stone walled enclosures, along this creek and other waterways close by. They were hunters and gatherers, with a very sophisticated society, and stone was their chosen resource for tools, walls and graves.

No one knows where they came from, no one knows why they left, but leave they did, somewhere around 1200 AD. And that is the mystery of the Ancient Ones.

They left behind many stone walled graves, beautiful worked stone tools, weapons, medallions, images and pictographs. In the mid-1800’s, a farmer, plowing his field, just a short way from our old farm house, uncovered a stone image of a kneeling figure, with facial structure that looks almost Oriental, just down the creek, also in the mid-1800’s, another settler found a large, flat stone with a pictograph carved on it that showed a person of high rank (evident by his costume)standing, facing another figure, evidently in some type of ceremony. The Person of High Rank was decked out in feathers and breastplate, a large medallion around his neck, and holding some type of object in his hand. At the top of the pictograph was a depiction that looks very much like a Viking Ship, causing some of us to wonder, did the Vikings come up the Cumberland, in the early times? Sailing a small ship from the Gulf Of Mexico, up the Mississippi, into the Ohio and turn into the Cumberland would not be a difficult task, after all, in later times, large steamships came up that way all the time.

It is just of interest to me, since the reminders of the stone age people lie all around me, coming to the surface after almost every hard rain….I think on an ancient civilization, wonder at their lives, particularly when I walk along some of my rock wall, or watch the water pass over the smooth stones in our creek…where did they come from….where did they go…the mystery…I wonder.

Water, rushing over stones….

Polishing them smooth and bringing forth beauty.

Beautiful Stones, gathered by the workmen to build the foundations, to make the walls, the chimneys and hearth.

Foundations, walls, chimneys and hearth, to shelter and nurture as the struggle goes to raise families, that make up the clan.

Families, grow to be strong and vibrant, to settle the land, to defend the walls from invaders, to take care of the ancient members of the clan, loving them as they pass.

The beautiful stones, placed around the graves to shelter the ones resting there, and marking this final destination, for all that come after.

Water, rushing over stones……..


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