Dave and I have an inside joke, that isn’t really all that “inside”. Based on the Peanuts Halloween episode, where everyone gets candy while trick or treating except poor Charlie Brown, who keeps getting rocks. I no longer remember the particulars, but something happened at home, and Dave’s response of “I got a rock” elicited giggles from our oldest chick. Her dad has been in love with her and her laugh since the day of her birth and so pretty much anything he says or does that makes her laugh is repeated until it becomes a family tradition.
Although this particular chick has fled the nest, the “I got a rock” tradition continues in our house. It pops up at odd moments – shopping, on our walks, vacationing, dinner, decorating for Christmas…
The thing is, we love getting rocks. I have a collection of them on my desk, we have various rocks brought home from vacations, and any trip to the beach has me bending over God’s glitter with curiosity and wonder.
Rocks are mysterious, beautiful, gentle, brooding, forceful. They have a story to tell but they are slow to speak. For me, being around rocks is like being around God – I have a sense of well being, warmth, and calmness. In the rush of living, they remind me to slow down and take a breath. Look around me. Sit a spell. It’s like I can hear God whispering to me in the warmth of the sun soaked stone.
It’s always interesting to see what people do with rocks. Sometimes they polish them into jewelry. Make tools out of them. Carve out tunnels and drive thru them. Create masterpieces within them. Bake with them. Curb fire with them. Build shelters from them.
Mostly, I just like to touch them, especially those worn smooth by wind and wave. Last time I went to Bayshore, I decided to rock pick with my camera instead of my hands – these specimens were a little large to fit in my pocket. Here are my favorites.

Rocks with big strips like this in them intrigue me. I always wonder what was happening on earth during the making of that layer.

I love this one. It looks like a brain. No need to point out the weirdness of that statement. I am fully aware.

If you look closely, this one has a daddy long legs on it. I usually hate spiders, but even I’m not freaked out by daddies.

This one reminds me of an ancient temple. Or maybe the dutch windmill cookies my Grandma Conard used to always give us.

This one I just liked because of all the tiny dot things on it. Sort of like worms but not in a gross way.

This rock with the wound of exposed granite really caught my eye. I took one picture dry, then wet it down with the rest of the water in my water bottle (which I regretted on the hot bike ride home).
Besides awesome rock pictures, I got a bit of a sun burn that day too. All in all, a wonderful afternoon. I’ll be back next week with tales of Wisconsin Summer Survival!
Sue