When I was a child, I collected rocks in a shoe box. Maybe “collected” is too strong a word as it usually denotes some kind of organization or classification that was not the case. I just picked up rocks that I thought were interesting or pretty for their color or shape.
Rocks were part of every day life – the stepping stones in the brook that we used to get across, the huge boulders under the high lines across from the house, the stones in the yard, the pea-stones along the side of the macadam road.
We had stone samples with garnets in them from the excavation of the underground powerhouse carved out of the mountain for Bear Swamp, a pumped storage power plant that was part of the hydro system that my father oversaw as superintendent of what was then called New England Power. (The plant is still operating over fifty years later, although under another name and company.)
I loved earth science when I took it in high school, so much so that I took a few geology courses when I was in college.
I do still have a few special rocks, including some that have been carved or inscribed with special words. I love their ability to help me feel grounded.
We all come from the earth, after all…
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Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “rock.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/06/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-1-2023/



