In 2,000 Years, Some Kinds of Communication Haven't Changed

The moon was high, a cold sliver in the night sky, as I hurried to tear down yard sale signs posted earlier that day. We had put them up in strategic places: in our town center, at an intersection between a main route and a surface road, and in the area approaching our driveway.

As my flashlight danced across the downed leaves, up to the profusion of heavy-duty staples on a telephone pole, I had an epiphany that was both jarring and comforting. This odd display, a mosaic of metal, was testament to the importance of personal communication. It reaffirmed man's desire to inform others and the value of a community, to receive the message. In fact, this trail of evidence was a living document of sorts.

On these old wooden poles had been posters for lost dogs and cats, church raffles and pancake breakfasts, school plays and recycling days. Some of the signs had been political, professionally printed; others had been scrawled in neon marker. Some featured handsome photos and tear-off phone numbers; others displayed drawings lovingly made by children.

There was something grounding in this rudimentary form of communication -- a sharp and refreshing contrast to our dazzling devices and emerging technology -- so fast, far-reaching, and impersonal. What struck me was that this slow, quaint type of story-telling and intercept information wasn't new. In fact, it's inherent in our history, and as I stared at the random smattering of staples, I was reminded of something I had seen before.

Many years ago, on a cross-country journey, we had stumbled upon Newspaper Rock near Monticello, Utah . This historical marker sits on Highway 211 in San Juan County, about 25 miles before the entrance to Canyonland National Park. This landmark hosts one of the densest collections of petroglyphs carved into the desert varnish of a sandstone slab. When scratched with a sharp tool, a lighter layer is revealed, and it is on this layer that ancient Pueblo dwellers incised images of people, animals, and adventures.

The exact messages have been diluted by time, wear, and over-writing, but they are thought to tell tales of hunts, conquests, and trade routes. It is estimated that some of these petroglyphs were made 2,000 years ago, while some were carved as recently as 650 years ago. “The designs range from abstract shapes and symbols to more recognizable human and animal figures,” says Atlas Obscura, which notes that in addition to traditional representations of deer, buffalo, and bighorn sheep... lizards, snakes, and turtles... some of the stranger designs include wagon wheel-like shapes and broad-shouldered humanoid figures with horns on their heads. Makes you wonder... In the Navajo language, the rock is aptly known as?Tse’ Hane, or ‘the rock that tells a story.’ I have come to believe that this remarkable rock is a story unto itself.

While not of the same tools or materials, happily, the story continues. It is on these worn, creosote-encrusted telephone poles that we talk to neighbors and influence their journeys. We invite them to gather, celebrate, remember, and share. We trade. We sell. We seek. These once-tree pillars not only carry lines of electricity but lines of communication, making it possible for average people to leave their mark for others to see.

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