Monday, June 25, 2012

My Life on the Rocks




Growing up I had a nice sand pile and lots of stories to go with it, but I never had a rock pile. In fact, rocks were an abomination to my dad. Oh horrors, the idle rock that fell into the yard and dulled his mower blade! Kids will carry rocks when they go to the river or creek, but Dad made us leave them there.


So somewhere in my adulthood, I began to pick up rocks without hearing Dad’s thunder. The first rocks I remember toting home was from the Cimarron River. DH was fishing the rippling water while the boys and I picked up rocks, tossed bread to chipmunks, watched dragonflies freewheel above the water. I found small stones washed round and smooth by eons of water in the riverbed.



From then on, I brought home rocks, bigger ones when possible. DH even got into spying pretty or unusual rocks for me. He eased himself down a crevice in South Dakota because there would be some “goodies” there. Sure enough some lovely stones in shades of pink. I remember sandy-coated rocks from a trip to Leadville. I don’t remember exactly where I picked them up, but I do remember it was spring before I sucked out all the sand from the van’s carpeting!


Then there was the trip to Robert Frost’s home. I had two boys with me that did not appreciate what they were seeing. I stood at Frost’s mailbox, running my hand over his name. I looked out across the blue haze that lingered between majestic mountains and appreciated the view Frost had from his front porch…and I took rocks from his driveway. One is the granite that so marks New England. 



The other is a most wonderful shape. It fits in the palm of my hand like a gray stone heart. I use both as paperweights, but the gray heart one I often pick up and hold when my mind is stumped, always hoping to channel the beautiful wordsmithing of Frost himself.



I have a couple of painted rocks, but I much prefer the plain rocks touched by the earth’s forces of wind and water. The smooth round rocks can be a perfect as a freshly laid egg or maybe jagged a bit where a corner stuck above ground being hit by maybe a wooden wagon wheel. In New Mexico, a ways from a deep ravine, DH caught me digging with anything at hand trying to get a rock loose from the earth. What was special about it? Why I wouldn’t know for sure until I could see ALL of it; the rock just called to me.
Mom is a joke with the kids because they think she has rocks in her head. They may be right. I wonder, would those rocks be quartz, limestone, or granite? Could they be turquoise, a favorite stone I often wear on my outer body anyway? Or some stone pressed in to a gem like a diamond or a ruby?


Are you a collector of rocks or other things when you travel?

9 comments:

Sandi@ Rose Chintz Cottage said...

Hi Bookie,
Well, I collect rocks and I have had a fascination with them most of my life. I think it probably started with the fireplace my parents built in their first home. They toted home beautiful rocks from the Bay of Fundy in NB. I have rocks from different parts of the world which family members have brought back to me. My aunt and uncle just arrived home from Spain and they brought me back a rock from their travels there. I am hoping to collect rocks from every state in the US but it won't be easy since I live in Canada. A couple of my blogger friends mailed me rocks from their states which was very nice of them!
I enjoyed your post so much. There are not many that I know who appreciate these beauties of nature. Thanks for sharing.

Blessings,
Sandi

Lynn said...

Oh my gosh, I'm such a collector of rocks... I'm sure I've blogged about it before. My sister thinks I have fossilized dinosaur bones in my yard that have turned into rocks, which makes digging in my yard quite exciting. I LOVE rocks. You have quite the collection. Rocks rock.

Grandma Swift said...

Rocks are my things too. I have them in the windowsills and on my cabinet. This week I found a whole bag of them hiding in the closet. Of course I kept them. I even have the stone you brought me from Frost's driveway on my desk. One year students even brought other rocks to join it there.

Susan said...

Hi Bookie...SOOOO glad you have your rock collection. You've got some really cool ones. And DH dipping down into that crevice? Wow, that was dedication to the one he loves!

Ohhhhh, I'm definitely a collector. Not of rocks but of wayyyyy too many other things----wooden Santas, cranberry glass, cobalt blue glass, dolls, miniatures, dollhouses, and books, to name just a smidgeon. Nuts? Yeah, probably. hee hee Susan

Rebecca said...

Yes...when I travel I find myself wanting to take a "piece of the place" along with me. It may be a rock, a seed pod, a buck-eye, a shell -- Usually something from nature.

Dee said...

Hi, I am visiting from my friends Rebecca's blog.I feel we are kindred spirits of sort. I also love rocks and recently posted some on my blog of rocks that I find piled artistically on the side of the road.You are welcome to come visit to see them...you may have to scroll back a tad bit to find them. I hope you do not mind that I am a new follower of your blog. Dee:)

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