Epic!

***

I feel like epic has become a pretty popular adjective, at least among those of my generation. We want our movies and books to be epic. Superheros, Lord of the Rings and Brandon Sanderson are all pretty epic. Epic stories, and epic visuals.
But then I was thinking about what actually makes things epic. If Vin*, bounding across a smoke filled landscape with a sword twice her height, was not fighting for the survival of her world would it still be epic? Would Eowyn's** defeat of the Witch King with her famous line "I am no man" be epic if she and the others weren't fighting for the protection of Middle Earth?
I'm not sure they would. And yet when I hear people talking about things in real life being epic they tend to be  like this picture of me on the top of a mountain.

But really I'm not doing anything epic. I'm not saving the world, or even someone's life. I just went for a walk one evening after work. (Granted I was living at high altitude for an Archaeology Dig). So I find myself asking why don't we call doctors saving someone's life epic? Or a child standing up to a bully?

*One of the main characters from Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn trilogy.
**A character from J R R Tolkein's Lord of the Rings.
***A fairly "epic" pose I did of a character from the book I'm writing. (Harrock).

Editions

Many times I have had teachers tell me and my fellow students that they better not see the first draft of our essays or papers. They much prefer a third or fourth edition.

I am presently rereading the book North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. The copy of it that I have has the title of chapter 24 being "The Meeting." Then it has a footnote noting that that title was probably a typo in the first edition and it should have read "The Mutiny." This would be a much more fitting title because that is the main subject of the entire chapter. So the question is why did the editor of my book find it necessary to keep the mistake just so that it would be consistent with the first edition. The author herself probably made the change. I find it more rude to ignore the author's intent then go back to the "original." 

I am in the process of editing my own book right now, and I certainly edit it for a reason, and want people to read the most recent copy. 

First Editions are overrated, that's what I'm saying.

Search Parameters

On my first field school my professor made sure we knew what we were looking for, especially when we were walking across the fields looking for things. We had already learned how to spot debitage (waste material from making projectile points) but looking for things like rock shelters, and windbreaks is a little different and if you aren't looking for them because you are too busy looking at your feet for a tiny flake of obsidian you will miss them, despite how big they are. You have to keep your search parameters open.
On the Nauvoo dig, I was sometimes amazed at how much people didn't see when we asked them to screen the dirt. I would help them and immediately pull out a chip of earthenware or a piece of glass from the dirt they had been staring at for minutes. I kind of felt guilty, but really it was just because I was more used to what I was looking for, I already had the search parameters down.

A piece of Native American pottery, that pretty much looks like a rock.

Just like it is easier to find bits of glass in dirt when you know what to look for, I think other things are like that as well. When I looked for miracles I found them. When I looked for reasons to be annoyed, I found them. Perhaps the problem is not so much in what is around you, but what you are looking for.

Unmet Friends

I grew up taking the bus to school both in the morning and the afternoon. Before I could read I would generally sit by myself and watch people or the window. After I learned to read well I read most of the time.
One day on the bus, one boy, who had never been in any of my classes, he might have even been a grade ahead of me almost left something on the bus. "Steve" I called "Is this yours?" He grabbed it, and then looked at me and said, "How do you know my name?"
At Nauvoo there is a set of 40 Performing Missionaries who act, dance, and play instruments in several different shows and activities. 16 are in the band, 4 do stage crew type things, and 20 are the primary dancers and actors. While I was in Nauvoo I went to about a dozen performances with them. I got to know them in an observers way, and I even talked to a few of them individually at some points. But not really. It just reminded me of the school bus. Telling people about them I could say, "oh yeah, I really liked that Elder, and that Sister is pretty cool." And yet, I actually have no idea. Especially because they were always acting... I've had other situations like that at school (in college as well) and church. I gain this sympathy for random people, and occasionally think "I could be their friend." Then it never happens, but if I do think about them, I think of them fondly like a toy I grew up with but haven't played with for years (not object like, but yeah). Unmet friends I guess.

Historic Archaeology

One of the things I enjoyed most about my most recent dig is that it was Historic Archaeology. Which means the artifacts were super diverse. Not just chert flakes and groundstone like I saw at my other digs. It was also really neat because it was in Historic Nauvoo. We got to dig up little pieces of china, glass, brick, and square nails and then we would go off touring the historic sites and see the very same things, just whole. I don't think I have ever paid attention to china in my life until I was picking up tiny pieces of it.

Glazed brick I found. It means it was overheated in the baking process.

A brick walk outside the historic Willard Richards home. The two vertical bricks in the right corner are glazed at the bottom corners.

My sister talks about "connection" with her kids. Basically connecting a recent experience with something else. I felt myself doing that a lot, and it was fun.

A little man from a piece of earthenware I found.

A full plate found in the Browning Gunshop. Someone at the dig found one of the same men that are in this plate.

I found this piece of bright blue earthenware at the Samuel Smith home site.

The bright blue of the previous piece matches the dark blue plate in the background. The tumblers on the table are the same pattern as some of the glass fragments I found. This setup is in the Wilford Woodruff home.

Thanks for bearing with me as I geek out over this, but it was really exciting to make all these connections and just find such a variety of artifacts that these people used.

Sacred

I heard once that three different things can make a place sacred. The Spirit, Blood or Sweat or at least that is what I remember. I think sacrifice should fit in there somewhere. The Spirit meaning spiritual or holy experiences, blood meaning death, and sweat meaning hard work.

Nauvoo is an amazing place because it is sacred for all three reasons. It is a place where thousands of Latter Day Saint converts sought refuge from mobs, and then many died from malaria. Under the direction of the latter day prophet Joseph Smith a modern temple was built with great sacrifice. There angels visited, and in this city modern revelation was received.

For all these reasons Nauvoo is a sacred place. There are some places (and times) that are sacred for only one of these reasons. Churches for spirit. Cemeteries for blood. School for sweat. But when they all come together in one place and time it makes it all the more powerful.

Wildlife

I am spending June in historic Nauvoo! I have already spent almost a week here. In the evenings I have spent some of my time walking about and have seen more wildlife than I have seen for some time and was kind of excited.

2 Skunks

Tons of Canada Geese and Sparrows and Red-winged Blackbirds. Which I love!

Lots of Robins

A nest of Baby birds

2 White Tailed Deer

Cute little Bunny Rabbits

A mother turtle laying her Eggs (really close to our house)

And for domesticated I have seen quite a few horses and a barn cat.