Petroglyphs in the Valley of Fire




Within the canyons of the Valley of Fire. 


These were my main reason for visiting the Valley of Fire Henry,

I wanted to see the petroglyphs.

I had read in Guns, Germs, and Steel about the lack of a written language in native US cultures...but couldn't these and other imagery (e.g. hide painting) be indicative of a written language?

I need to write to Jared Diamond and find out.

xoxo a.d.



My Thoughts on Guns, Germs, and Steel


****** *********************************

a.d. elliott is a wanderer, photographer, and storyteller living in Salem, Virginia. 

In addition to her travel writings at www.takethebackroads.com, you can also read her book reviews at www.riteoffancy.com and US military biographies at www.everydaypatriot.com

Her online photography gallery can be found at shop.takethebackroads.com

#TaketheBackRoads

Like my page? Please consider supporting my work by visiting my sponsors and webshop or buying me a cup of coffee!



Location: Petroglyph Canyon Trail, Overton, NV 89040, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Lessons I Learned After I Lost My Shoes

Image
  Dear Henry, This is the story of how I learned to live again. How I Lost My Shoes In The First Place In March 1998, a heavily intoxicated man committed an armed robbery of a local convenience store. During the police chase to capture him, I was struck (as a pedestrian) by the assailant’s (stolen) car while crossing the street. He was estimated to be traveling between 35 and 40 miles per hour . My top seven left ribs broke and were pushed over my spine. My left shoulder, elbow, and hip were severely damaged, and my left tibia and fibula (the lower bones in my leg) shattered and sent the bone protruding out the front of my leg. My leg also developed a complication called compartment syndrome, where fluid builds up between the muscles and the fascial sheath that covers them, cutting off circulation to the affected area. I also had severe head trauma.  It was a miracle that I survived. The initial prognosis was bleak; I was not expected to live through the night, and in fact, ...
Read more

There Once Was A Hyena Named Bill - Tales of Presidential Pets

Image
Dear Henry, Have you ever seen the White House? I've gone by it several times but have not seen any presidential pets. Speaking of pets... We both know  President Theodore Roosevelt  was quite the character, but I think he stands out as a presidential pet owner. During his presidency, the White House was a zoo and, briefly, was the home of a hyena named Bill. Bill was a gift from Ethiopia's Emperor Menelik II in 1904. Despite President Roosevelt's dislike of hyenas (he thought they were cowardly), he eventually grew to love the hyena, feeding it table scraps and teaching it tricks. Finally, however, the hyena grew too large for the White House and was moved to the National Zoo. Other unusual pets owned by the Roosevelt family include a chicken named Baron Speckle, Bill the lizard (to distinguish from Bill, the hyena), a garter snake named Emily Spinach, and Josiah, the badger. A bear, Jonathan Edwards, was also a brief member of the family before he also became to...
Read more

The Resurrection of the Old Lick Cemetery In Roanoke Virginia

Image
Dear Henry, I have always felt a strong call to "pray for the dead," even as a child.  My grandmother was an avid genealogist (I inherited this love from her), and I used to accompany her to various old graveyards, where she transcribed and photographed old headstones. I would spend my time trying to scrape overgrown grass and weeds from the headstones, having developed the strange belief that they couldn't go to heaven if you couldn't read the name on a tombstone. It always made me so sad to see unkept headstones. While I've (somewhat) grown out of the belief that an unmarked grave condemns people to walk the earth as ghosts, the image of Patroclus, in Madeline Miller's book The Song of Achilles ( review here ), wandering the world as a shadow because no one would write his name down made me cry. I was also very sad to see this poor, unkept little cemetery right as I pulled off Interstate 581. One of my first thoughts entering the city of Roanoke for the firs...
Read more