Monday, December 3, 2007
A Rock Is Always A Rock
Summer. I won't tell you where this rock is in case some idiot tries to steal it. It's a grandaddy granite rock from way way back, friendly and wise. Tumbled a bit, roughly smoothed and polished. Always happier than these broken or dynamited rocks. Indians used to talk to them and they still do. We're the idiots for thinking this stupid or pagan or unscientific. If you're wise and good as some Indians say, you might turn into a rock one day. OK, part of you, the part that goes to work everyday. Here in the Muskokas, rocks do mean something, even to us modern people. They go out everyday collecting small ones and big ones for their gardens or the kids skip some back into the waters. Remember the Pet Rock craze of the late 60's? Not a bad idea.
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