My garage is an art gallery. I know that sounds bizarre, but I get this itch whenever a piece of artwork strikes my fancy. I’m not talking artwork from the metropolitan art gallery. I’m talking artwork at the local thrift store, estate sales, garage-sales… people are just giving that stuff away! Most of it ends up hanging on the walls of my garage. There is no real theme, just paintings of all different styles and periods.

Actually, I had this one framed lithograph that I wanted to tell you about. The print was nothing fancy, just some adorable kittens with ribbons around their necks attempting to maul a pheasant… Adorable, right? Well I didn’t buy this particular piece for the artwork, I bought this particular piece for the frame–the shadowbox frame with gold detailing and dark wood contrast. It was fabulous.

I wrote at length the other day about leaving a good impression. I also wrote at length the other, other day about my permission at the underground railroad house–The Wright House.

I regret leaving out a very important part of the story, which I would like to share with you now. You see, as I was loading the kids into the car to leave, Ms. Ludwig noticed a charcoal rendering of an elderly couple in my front seat. She was really impressed with the antique golden frame, even though some of the plaster detailing had been damaged.

The following day, I got to thinking about how I could thank Ms. Ludwig for giving me such a monumental permission. I had already sent a thank-you note to the folks at the Latimore Township Municipal Office for helping me track down the underground railroad house. But the more I thought about thanking Ms. Ludwig, the more I realized that a thank-you card just wouldn’t do.

So, I went into the garage and took my kitties off the wall. I drove the artwork to Ms. Ludwig and she greeted me on the porch. When I gave it to her, she gave me a hug and called me crazy–but I think she meant it in a good way. The picture belonged with her. The kittens looked strikingly similar to her barn cats and the way she looked at that frame in my front seat, I knew it was meant to be.

I tell you this story, because I think a lot of metal detectorists are selfish. Wait. Don’t get all huffy-puffy on the other side of your computer screen. I’m not making a blanket statement about all detectorists. I will acknowledge that there are those that go the extra mile to show their appreciation to property owners.

Let me explain myself. As a metal detectorist, you must realize that the property owner has no real incentive to give access to their property. I’m sure many of you are familiar with the concept of win-win. If you really think about it, what is the property owner winning by giving you permission? Nothing.

It takes a very special person to look you in the eyes, recognize your passion, and give you permission to–essentially–dig up their property in search of some rusty nails and a pocketful of pull-tabs.

Be mindful of the property owner. That is all I ask.