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He stared out over the bluff which fell a hundred feet, then another hundred, cascading to a distant floodplain. A sunset poured back into his eyes, golden and blinding, but far below he could see miles of silt-covered bottomland lush with grass and trees. Who would have guessed such a place existed in this flat, desert country? And where did the river come from? And did it flood in the spring? He counted the days. Time to turn back. Now he needed to find the landing place of the ship that would pick him up. He thought he could. What
was that in the inscription? The second group of strange characters in
the line of writing almost certainly represented the king's name, Darius.
The name was written
Exploration happens, of course, when one goes looking—searching for something new: a new place, a new idea, a new way of living. Not all explorations are successful, but success is not necessarily measured by what one finds. The process itself may be worthwhile. The explorer often is also the one who first interprets and defines what is found. The reporting of observations is a key activity of an explorer. Yet, first impressions of a new world or a new idea may be responsible and accurate or irresponsible and false. And a report of something new can be theoretical and abstract or practical. Most
sixteenth century exploration was not theoretical—it was a very practical
operation. Standards of verification were much like modern science or
history. No one, in the great age of geographic discovery from 1450 to
1650, apparently just went voyaging into nowhere. The explorers traveled
in logical directions to places they supposed to be reasonably possible
goals. Explorers usually have at least legends, myths, or good guesses
to rely on—and often much more. In the sixteenth century they sailed for
practical reasons: gold and spices, slaves and land. At that time, the
New World just happened to be in the way. And, naturally, any new world is only new to outside discoverers. It well may be peopled by those who know it very well indeed. The new land may be settled. And that condition—at least in the minds of sixteenth century Europeans—called for conquest in addition to exploration. The clear differences between explorers and settlers, at least in the geographic sense, should be noted. Explorers go for the first time into areas unknown to them and others of their society. But they do not stay for long lengths of time. Or at least do not intend to stay. They are reporters. One of the explorers' goals is to return and describe to others how to journey where they went—and explain if the trip was worthwhile. Explorers are the sketchers of the first maps, the compilers of the first descriptions. And explorers want to know exactly where they are. Most explorations are backed by a large amount of organization and money, yet the task remains in spirit an individual job. And the explorer almost never travels with family.
Settlers, however, go to a place already generally known and do not expect to return. They may keep diaries, but they are not reporters. They expect to live elsewhere and are often families. Nor do settlers care exactly where they are. Boundaries of ownership may come to be a problem, but settlers are not charged with defining location in relation to where they came from. Exploring, like settling, is often a physical activity. To many people it means going where no one has been before: climbing mountain ranges, crossing trackless deserts, penetrating dense rain forests, walking on another planet, or descending into caves. But exploring can be decoding and translating a lost language, mathematically describing the way a star explodes, painting a portrait, investing money, falling in love, or dealing with kitchen leftovers. Exploring
can also include part of the activity of a child making new friends after
his parents have moved to a strange town or an adult going into a library
for the first time. Exploration has been described as a form of growth,
the explaining of the universe in human terms, and one of the most fundamental
of human activities. Exploring is more a state of mind than it is physical activity. It involves risk and change, innovative thinking and action. It depends a great deal on imagination and curiosity and demands a flexible, independent turn of mind. It appears to be a fundamental capability of creative individuals as well as a source of excitement and joy. Without the capacity for exploration—physical and mental—humankind would probably be, in the words of an old cliché, little more than a collection of apes.
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