Wednesday, March 09, 2011

My stones . . . Let me show you them

I'm making comment over at Word Wenches (here) about stones in general -- and standing stones in particular.  So I will celebrate some stones I am particularly fond of.

These two pictures show a couple of the few dozen large rocks I have transported one by one to my house so I can enjoy them. 

I walk by my rocks and get all joyful because they are so whole and solid and perfect.

I am actually pretty easy to please.



  1. Nothing more satisfying than a good rock. Unless it's a stone in your hand, rescued from a beach somewhere...
    (not being facetious here! I really do enjoy rocks and stones.)

  2. Hi Deniz --

    I know exactly what you mean. I have a silver bowl of rocks next to the phone. I take one out and admire it every once in a while.

    Some are semi-precious minerals. Some are just places I've been that I want to remember. Some are from friends.

    S'weird, huh?

  3. I completely understand about rocks being important.

    In the house where I grew up, my dad had a rock garden in the back corner of the yard & would pick up rocks on various drives.

    One year in early 70's, we went into Canada to Point Pelee for a picnic with our neighbors. On the drive to the park, we passed an area where the road had been cut into the hillside. My dad saw a rock that he really liked. He stopped the car & loaded the rock into the back of the station wagon. It was about the size of a 25 lb of dog food. On the ride back to the Detroit area, we had to stop at the customs check point. The officer asked if we had anything to declare & my dad said no.... but there were six or seven kids in the back trying to look innocent when one of them was sitting atop the rock in the back. We made it through without incident & while I don't recommend taking rocks from nature areas, domestic or international, it makes an interesting story & rock.

  4. *g*

    I don't have a Canadian rock.

    I wonder if I'm missing something . . .

  5. I can send you one if you like Jo! Well, okay, not a rock. But a stone. Perhaps from our friends up north, who live by a lake...

  6. I have not lost hope that I will pick one up someday.

    Who knows? I talk about moving to the Great Northwest.
    Could happen.

  7. Jo, I love stones, too. I've brought them home from so many places -- from a particular beach in Brittany, from Montana, from Beddgelert in Wales, from Greece, even Canada. Some are associated with memories, some are simply pretty or interesting.

    Once when I was coming home from a long backpacking trip, the customs guy wanted me to open my pack. Being a nice guy, he went to lift my pack onto the bench for me. He groaned at the weight of it and joked, "What have you got in here? Rocks?" Yes, sez me. And books. LOL

    Obviously my bigger rocks are from closer to home. I like to keep my smaller pretty pebbles in a large shallow dish of water.
    My favorite rocks are sea-smooth ones with hollows worn into them by other smaller rocks and the action of the waves.

  8. In my silver bowl beside the phone, I have a rock from the coast of Maine, that I picked up on the beach. It's almost pink, and the waves have smoothed it down to a perfect egg shape.

    I love the way a million tiny accidental touches shape the stone. Ten thousand years of wind, sand, rain, sea, all recorded in a single form.