Recollections of Lost Mines.

Illustration by Tom Lea.

 I thought I'd figured out why there are so many legends of lost mines in the desert.

 

This bit of petrified wood, in the late afternoon desert sun, looked vibrantly colorful; it seemed full of bright purples and yellows, like the flowers that were growing nearby.

But after dragging it home the colors seem to fade to shades of grey.

Once, after a long hike, I found a bright yellow rock about the size of a brick, with blue and white agate "windows". My backpack was already too heavy so I left it near the fork of two dry creek beds.

Later, in my imagination, the rock not taken seemed to gain in stature, color and brilliance. I made the long trek back out again. Once again I assessed it as being kinda neat but not worth lugging back. It remains at the fork of the two creeks.

So here are two things that can play tricks on your mind and produce a "treasure" from more prosaic circumstances: the late afternoon desert sun, and your memory.

I wondered if this is how lost mines are made.

But usually there is some material that is brought back and assessed by others, something to corroborate the find. But often that goes missing and the whole thing becomes apocryphal so who knows?

I'd like to go back and photograph that rock at the two creeks if I could still find it (it's been a few years now) but it is an awfully long hike.