Can’t really explain why I felt compelled to write this tonight, but I did, so there it is…
So, let’s say you’re a history buff.
And that museums are cool, and all, but you’re more of an outdoorsy person. You like to see the splendor and size and the reality of sites and you get shivers thinking about standing on a path where others have stood, thousands of years before you – of touching the same wall, of looking through the same window. You probably like to touch things, if they don’t seem too fragile. (You probably have a thing for buildings and architecture, too, but you always hated math too much to take that path in school.)
And let’s say that it happens to be June or July (or maybe even August – these are, after all, Field Season) and you happen to be somewhere really old and really, really interesting (like, say, a World Heritage Site).
And, away from the crowds, off to a back side, there seem to be a rather lot of people. Who are rather spread out all around the place – or maybe, actually, sort of in the place. And these people seem to be doing some sort of – are they digging? Squatting and staring at the ground? Shaking things? Holding long sticks up against rocks and taking pictures of each other? Maybe counting pebbles?
You’ve found yourself at an active archaeological excavation.
If you behave yourself, express interest, and flatter an expert or two – you might get to see some really cool stuff.
(It goes on to give just enough information to enable people to gate-crash excavations…)