Guess I had spring fever, I wanted to be outside, but wanted to do something more fun than yard work, so me and my crew grabbed my metal detector and headed to the hills. About a mile and a half from my house are the remains of a dugout. I’ve wandered around them before, but not with a metal detector! I let the crew out of the back of the Durango, and Lucas went to wandering…Elsa and Dally were shadows. Jees, dogs, I can’t swing my metal detector without bumping you! aaaah. Being quick learners, they’d back off until I knelt down to dig a “hit” and then Dally or Elsa would be right in my face. aaaah. Finally! They followed Lucas and went on their own treasure hunts and I got to exploring. It really must be the archaeologist in me to rejoice over finding a bent spoon, a Prince Albert can, a snap and buckle from broken tack. When I heard the beep-beep dead center in the doorway, I had high hopes that that was where he had buried his gold dollars… It turned out to be a enamelled cup…filled with dirt, not gold. But I felt triumphant, and continued my quest for interesting artifacts. Occasionally I’d check on the crew, hard at work seeking bunnies and mice and other funny-smelling critters among the rocks. Another beep and I find a broken glass bottle with metal cap still intact. It had been broken before it was opened, I’m sure causing grief. But as I dig and find more pieces of the bottle, I find the bottom of the bottle, and imprinted upon it is “Thermopolis, Wyo.” Cool. I didn’t know they bottled drinks in Thermop! Two hours later and my sore shoulder and thirst drive me back to the Durango, where in short order I am joined by my crew, wet from the spring, muddy from digging after some rodent. They’ve had a wonderful time and so have I. Rejeuvenated, we head for home, content with our small moments, and ready once again to take up the work we abandoned earlier.
