In my mind, I climbed up the ladder, over the wall, and into the main compound. As I ascended to the top level of the two story structure, I was awed at the surrounding scene.
Fertile farmland strectched as far as I could see in every direction. Crops of every sort - beans, corn, herbs, tobacco, squash - grew in fertile swathes that swayed gently in the breeze. An amazing irrigation system brought life-giving water to endless fields of green.
I saw smaller villages and family compounds dotted throughout the landscape; men working in the fields or resting under a ramada, shaded from the sun. Women and their daughters grinding corn, weaving, and tending small infants. Children playing with dogs and with each other, running in the morning sun.
Around me, in the Pueblo Grande, the signs of a wealthy society were everywhere. Engineers and astronomers discussed science; newly arrived immigrants begged for sanctuary within the compound walls; men trained for games in the ball courts; traders bartered for carved jewelry and pottery. The chief listened to disputes and dispensed fair judgement, his royal robes glowing red and gold. The priest noted the alignment of the sun, seeing the rays line up precisely from his hall to the lookout on the mountain a mile distant.
I opened my eyes to see the bustling modern housing developments; airplanes landing one after another; freeways and highways stretching into the horizon; the outline of downtown.
I saw Phoenix, the city built on the ashes of a former civilization.
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