The dreams were filled with canvas tents and biscuits and horseshoes. There were dreams of long-ago days on the mesa, no cell phones and no roads.
I wandered among the old rusty cans that spilled down the side of the mesa. Mr Sage broke out the metal detector. The dogs chased rabbits.
There were no museum-quality treasures to be found, but we were so immersed in the past, so in touch with the people that once camped on our mesa, that the treasure was in the experience itself.
Oh how we love our mesa....and how it loves us back.