u/critterInVermont

Although I do not know who first penned the quote (often mis-attributed to Einstein), I think about it often while metal detecting. “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. 

I returned to one of the first sites I had detected with a new plan. This site was once a homestead, it was abandoned in the late 1800s where it sat until it was  converted to a logging camp in the mid 1900s. The ground is loaded with iron cans, pull tabs, nails and so much more. 

My new approach required a custom configuration for my Nokta Legend. The default iron filter is set very high making it easy for a detectorist to avoid digging junk.  However, the problem arises when a valid relic sits close or under an iron object. I wanted to hear both the iron and the relic. 

This is where the iron filter, stability and recovery speed come into play. I lowered my iron filter to 3, set the stability to 2 and set the recovery speed to 7. I also disabled the bottle cap rejection and lowered my discrimination pattern to 6.  In short, I wanted to hear it all.

It was a long session that exceeded 7 hours. I still dug a lot of trashy targets but I was not disappointed.  The signal sounded like another pull tab. A bouncy and repeatable 29 midtone. A pull tab was what I was expecting when instead  I recovered this decorative piece of horse tack. It did not look great coming out of the ground but once the dirt was removed the details started to shine through.

What I found was  a beautiful period piece. Possibly a bridle rosette hanger or a reins guide. The details are striking.

The cast metal centerpiece features a highly detailed horse head in profile over the top of a saddle. A curved loop at the top would have allowed it to hang or attach to the bridle, while a small ball terminal dangles from the bottom. It is a beautiful piece of history that I might have never found if not for this new approach.

I look forward to revisiting some old sites with this new configuration.  I feel confident that a once hunted out site will come back to life in a new way. It’s an exciting prospect. Who knows what interesting relics I might have missed.

Thank you kindly for reading.

TLDR;

After 7+ hours of detecting a long-abandoned 1800s homestead using a custom low-discrimination setup on my Nokta Legend, I recovered a stunning Victorian-era ornate horse bridle fitting, complete with a detailed horse head motif.

Today was the first day this year that I was able to attend a full sermon of "Dirt Church". That quiet, private congregation held between a person, a detector and the earth beneath their feet. There are no pews here, no hymn books. Just the matted leaf litter of early spring, the first brave songbirds returned from their winter pilgrimage, and the particular kind of faith that only a detectorist understands. The belief that something worth finding is always just one more swing away. 

The snow has receded to all but the most secluded hollows of the spruce trees this time of year. The white unmistakable beneath the green of the needles. The undergrowth is still dormant which makes it easy to guide a coil across last year’s growth without snagging. The robins are singing a beautiful, glassy tune. Their songs mix with the other song birds and the accumulated voices are purposeful, clear and beautiful. Their song softens something in my chest that winter has tightened. I am feeling optimistic.

Picture the scene. You are alone out in the vast woods. Secluded. Peaceful. Your mind is full of anticipation.  In a world of infinite probabilities anything is possible. The sweet sounds of the woods around you set your soul at ease as you hike toward something yet to be determined. You don't yet  know what you are looking for. You only know that you are looking.

I find myself following a familiar logging road. To the left a pile of stones catches my eye. One I have somehow overlooked on every previous visit here. The lack of spring growth is the reason. Come summer, the ferns and berry bushes will swallow it entirely. But today it sits there in plain view, like it had always meant to be found. This looks like a good place to begin the season.

The day started off quickly. Within minutes I uncovered a few interesting relics. A flat button and a pewter button pulled from the same hole, along with a few square nails. "People were here," that is my first thought. My second thought was, “I don't believe in the three minute curse”. I spoke this second thought out loud to keep the curse at bay.

An hour passes quickly. Then another. The ground goes quiet on me.

I begin to suspect my swing is rusty.  I know that may sound absurd but there is a rustiness that is purely physical, stiff shoulders that makes the swinging of a coil feel choppy and awkward. There is mental rust as well. An eagerness that makes you swing too fast, cover too much ground, as though the next target is always somewhere else. I consciously slow myself down. I drop my shoulders, calm my mind and shorten my stride. My arms and eyes work together as the coil slides just inches above the soil. My pace becomes almost meditative. I have fully arrived at "Dirt Church".

The adjustment pays off almost immediately. A faint mid-tone rises through the headphones.
The VDI on the Legend settles on 21. I'm expecting a fired .22 bullet. What I pull from the earth instead is a tiny flat cuff link, green with age. A tiny surprise.

The hours continue their slow drift. The sun begins its descent toward the mountains, and the clock reads 2:30 PM. The day has been generous: a few more buttons, the chaff to a shoe buckle, an old file. Two iron spoon bowls, rusty from their time in the ground. A square buckle and an oxen shoe. For a moment I try to picture an ox out here, alone in the woods. I laugh to myself at the absurdity of it. I became aware of the fact that I have been here for hours and I have obligations waiting for me at home. The day has grown old.

I enter what detectorists call "One Last Dig" mode.A hopeful state where you promise yourself you'll quit after the next signal. I move to the outer edges of where I've been working, swinging faster now, covering ground, chasing that elusive high tone that has not come yet today. I know that my swing is less controlled now, but I am chasing that demon. I know that anything is possible. I have experienced it first hand.

AT 3:45 PM, it happens!

A beautiful high tone, as sweet as any robin’s song, rises from the detector, clean and symmetrical. It sounds too good to be true. The VDI bounces between 36 and 39 on the Legend. My first thought is "please don't be a rifle cartridge." With a hopeful heart I put the shovel to the earth and cut a small plug approximately four inches deep. 

A quick scan with my detector tells me the target is still in the hole. The VDI climbs and it is now reading between 38 and 40. My heart is pumping now. Adrenaline surges through me as  I drop to my knees and reach for my pin pointer. Almost immediately I landed on the target. I reach in and grab a handful of dirt. My eyes scan the newly excavated dirt, hoping to see something round, something green with age. It took only a moment for my eyes to fall upon the verdigris encrusted green disk.

It was a "dandy" button and a beautiful one at that.

I have dug quite a few of these over the years, and they are always exciting. All have been decorative Georgian-era buttons with geometric patterns etched onto their faces, usually something resembling a starburst. Beautiful in their own right. But this one was different.

I did not fully understand what I was looking at until later that night while examining the button under a good lamp. A bird, possibly a dove, roosting upon a branch. Its head tilted to one side, looking back over its shoulder, as though it had just heard something unfamiliar in the trees behind it. Two branches extend beyond it, reaching toward the edge of the button's face. And at the center, a slight raise, a gentle convexity that catches the light differently than the buttons I've found before. A rare and unique find for me.

I am eager to learn more about this piece. My research has not yet turned up a clear origin, and I find myself wondering: is this a common pattern, known to collectors and historians? Or is there more to this button's design? Perhaps it is a custom piece, made for a specific garment or purpose. Or maybe it is an entirely "one of a kind" piece, struck by a craftsman who put a little more of himself into the work than usual. 

I gather my things and pack up for the long hike out. During my exit I think back upon the day. Today was a good day. The woods provided  me with a glimpse into the unfamiliar today. They generally do, eventually, if I am patient enough to listen.

If you have found one of these or know their history, I would genuinely love to hear from you. It's through the community that we all learn. 

As always, 

Thank you kindly for reading.

TLDR;
A metal detectorist recovers an interesting dandy button in the North East section of the United States with a unique bird engraving and is looking for more information.