Ancient Tracks …Part 6 …Mysterious Ways

The adventure began in mystery, and ended in mystery,
but what a savage and beautiful country lay between.
― Diane Ackerman

Gates of the Forest

This past month I've been shadowed by ghosts—two phantom figures, a man and a woman, who accompany me on my trail hikes.

The haunting seemed harmless enough but when Mollie, my golden retriever, was taken by the two ghosts I was devastated, more so because I thought I'd never see her again.

But even saying this now I feel embarrassed. Before venturing into the woods I thought people who claimed to see ghosts were deluded.

But after my experience I'm not so sure. All I know for certain is my world has been totally turned upside down.

When Mollie returned home, I phoned Gwen and told her about everything—even the weird collar and feathers and the red stain on Mollie's fur.

She was perplexed but encouraged me to contact the university and talk to Lindsay Fielding who works in the archeology department. She thought she might be able to help explain the strange teeth attached to Mollie's collar.

It seemed like a plan.

"You're telling me this collar was around Mollie's neck when she came back?"

Lindsay looked perplexed.

"Like I said, I have no idea what it is or how it got there."

She was staring intently at Mollie. I knew she'd be spending her Saturday mornings cataloguing fossils at the Museum, so I brought Mollie with me so she could judge for herself the purpose was of these weird accoutrements.

She whistled softly under her breath. " I have to tell you, this is really strange, Martin."

"I could have told you that much," i said acerbically.

"These molars you thought were white stones are actually mastodon teeth."

"Should I be impressed?" I asked facetiously.

"Well, I am," she parried, "because the mastodons went extinct 10,000 years ago and any fossil teeth I've seen are dark with age and permineralized—but these teeth are white and new as if they were extracted yesterday."

I stared at her trying to decide if she was joking but the sober look on her face told me she wasn't.

"That red stain on Mollie's neck fur isn't woman's makeup as you assumed—it's red ochre—the same ancient pigment primitive humans mixed with water and painted on cave walls. Mind you, there's evidence they often painted their faces too, so your guess about face makeup isn't that far off the mark."

"I don't get it—how is this possible?"

Lindsay went silent for a moment as if deciding whether or not to venture a reply. Finally, she said in a solemn tone, "I don't expect you to believe this, Martin, but I think you stumbled upon an ancient ceremonial site and these are often liminal places—gateways or portals between worlds."

"You want me to accept this?" I croaked.

"No, I know you can't get that far," she shrugged, "it's not part of your culture or experience, but I hope you'll be respectful of the fact that it's part of a long tradition of ancient wisdom. We know a lot in the modern world, but we don't know everything."

The conversation with Lindsay that morning deeply affected me. She was right—I found it hard to accept there were liminal places or ancient portals, but I couldn't deny the evidence of my own experience.

I had vetured onto an ancient trackway and opened a door to a forgotten place aand time.

But, in admitting this, I was surprised that Gwen also agreed with me.

She felt we stumbled onto a mystery and she was convinced it was part of our destiny.

So, now when we go on our twilight walks we allow Mollie to go unleashed and run ahead. At the bend in the path she always disappears but we find she emerges again if we wait for half an hour.

They say cats have nine lives—well, it seems Mollie, our pup, has two, and apparently, two owners as well.

I don't know how time passes in that other world around the bend in the path, but she always comes back to us, freshly groomed and happy.

And occasionally, when we exit the trackway I glance back and see a dark figure in the distance standing near the bend, and sometimes she waves to me.

I feel a primordial sense of connectedness to the land I can’t explain and to these ancient ancestors without a name.

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