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Dowsing
- Ohio University Press
- Chapter
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Dowsing I find a split branch to follow like a fork in the road, my destiny to discover the greatest resource of the region. Not for oil do I wire my spirit to the divine, not even for water (though the desert remains dry). Somewhere within ancient irrigation tunnels runs the blood of my ancestors for which this nation still hungers. When near I’ll feel a twitch and dig spoonfuls of soil with my little shovel, an archeologist resurrecting the spirit of the place. To translate broken letters overinterprets what they meant in a far different time, building dinosaur models instead of living wonders that once awed the earth. With a stick in one hand and a pen in the other, I pray to intuit voices of landscape at the level of simple nouns, letting words stand for nature in primal origins— water, fire, soil, and air. Oh, who am I kidding? Like I’m that pure; like I could say X marks the spot to shake hands with old masters and talk over tea. The truth is once while camping on the way to Isfahan, I saw a common bird perched on a cactus. 42 You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. Thinking of the falcon and his falconer, I killed the bird with my slingshot and a hundred-rial coin (the price of culture crossing nature). I felt guilty, yet strangely triumphant, as if capturing the historical power of the hunting bird instead of some common lark. 43 You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...