I like the coolness of a smooth river stone in my palm. I like thinking about how very, very long the rocks I'm hiking beside have been here. I find myself stopping to gaze with wonder at a well-built stone wall. I go out of my way to hop from stone to stone and cross a creek.
And now I find myself living in a place sprinkled with rocks and stones and boulders and pebbles. In the breaks between building projects, I rearrange the rocks.
After we cleaned out the poison ivy and brambles outside the Tree House (new name given to the screen house by Kelly), we looked out on a slope of bare dirt stretching down to our tiny creek. Since then, I've created a few paths, planting areas and "scuptures" with the abundance of grey granite all around me.