Nazca Lines

I stretch out under the hot Peruvian sun, feeling the dry wind whistle across my skin. For miles and miles, all you can see is a flat, stony plain, reddish-brown and quiet. But I hold a giant secret. Etched into my surface are pictures so enormous that they boggle the mind. On one part of me, a monkey curls its long, swirling tail into a perfect spiral. Not far away, a hummingbird, larger than any house you've ever seen, seems to hover forever, its long beak pointing towards a flower that isn't there. Elsewhere, a spider with long, spindly legs waits patiently, and a giant lizard basks in the sun. There are also long, straight lines that shoot across the desert floor, some stretching for miles, crossing over hills and valleys without a single wobble. Can you imagine a drawing so big that you can't even tell what it is when you're standing right on top of it? To see my secrets, you have to climb a high hill or, even better, fly like a bird high up in the sky. Only then do my shapes appear. I am a giant art gallery drawn on the desert floor. I am the Nazca Lines.

My creators were clever and thoughtful. They were the Nazca people, who lived in this dry part of Peru a very, very long time ago, between the years 500 BCE and 500 CE. They didn't have giant machines or cranes to help them. Instead, they used their hands, simple wooden stakes, and long pieces of rope to plan my designs with incredible care. To draw me, they would carefully lift away the dark, reddish-brown rocks that covered the desert floor like a crusty blanket. Underneath, the ground was a much lighter, sandy color. By clearing away the dark stones in precise patterns, they drew me, line by line, shape by shape. These giant pictures are called geoglyphs, which means 'earth drawings'. But why would they create something so huge that they couldn't fully see it from where they stood? That is my greatest mystery. Some scientists today think my long, straight lines were a kind of giant calendar, pointing to where the sun would rise or set on important days of the year. Others believe my animal shapes were powerful symbols for their gods. Perhaps the people would walk along my paths in special religious ceremonies, praying for rain to come to their dry home. I was their special connection to the sky, the earth, and the spirits they believed in. I was their message to the heavens.

After the Nazca culture disappeared, I lay sleeping in the desert for more than a thousand years. People walked across me, but because my lines are shallow and my shapes are so huge, they never knew they were treading on a giant spider or a hummingbird. I kept my secrets safe under the sun. Then, in the 1930s, something new appeared in the sky: airplanes. Pilots flying high above the desert looked down and couldn't believe their eyes. There I was, spread out below them. For the first time in centuries, my animal shapes and long lines were seen in their full glory. A woman from Germany named Maria Reiche fell in love with my mystery. Starting in the 1940s, she dedicated her entire life to studying and protecting me. She would sweep my lines clean with a broom and climb a tall ladder to see me better, mapping every curve and angle. Because of her, the world learned how special I am. Today, I am a protected treasure, a reminder that ancient people had incredible imagination and skill. I invite you to look at the world with wonder and imagine what other secrets the earth might be holding.