When searching for a fortune, or just nuggets of wisdom, it pays to listen carefully.
Words and photography by Max Anderson
THE earth speaks in a faint, mosquito-like whine, filling my gel-cushioned headphones with tiny modulations. As I step slowly across the landscape, I listen respectfully to what it has to say. Though spoken in a mostly monosyllabic whisper, the message is clear: “There’s nothing here. Move on.”
“Metal detecting” is an ungainly phrase that’s quite difficult to say when you’re in a hurry (something about all those Ts arranged like steeples in a chase). And frankly, while you’re strapping yourself into your metal detector, you are in a hurry. Your blood pressure is elevated by the knowledge there’s gold in the ground waiting for someone lucky enough to walk over it – and that someone really needs to be you.
