Rocks are my new obsession, or maybe an obsession revisited. (More)
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
Most of northeastern Minnesota is rocky. Huge granite outcroppings and glacial rubble are all over the place. When I lived outside of the Twin Cities and had my first bout of rock mania I was digging them out of the lakeshore and eventually paying to have them delivered. I terraced about 100 feet of lake shore building rock walls and carrying dirt so I could have a garden. It was the only sunny place in my yard for flowers. The bank was 10 to 12 feet high so this “project took 10 years and the help of my sons. For Mother’s Day for years all I asked for was a day of help building rock walls. It is easier to visit with teenagers if you are sharing a task.
This current round started with a visit to a fellow camp host who had lined the edges of his driveway with rocks. Still thinking like a city girl, I asked if he’d had the rocks delivered. Duh! He said that there were rocks everywhere and I should open my eyes. Well duh again! I have been carefully mowing around them for 4 years. What was I thinking?
I have a wood wagon which I pull along the road and stop for rock picking. It looks a bit like the 60′s because it was painted with flowers, rainbows and a peace sign by my 5 year old granddaughter. I must look like a refugee from that era with my long gray pony-tail and bug netting. I have met campers out for a stroll and they ask about the wagon and what I am doing. When I say I am picking rocks to line my camp site, they stare. Young kids are my favorite. They don’t ask why they ask if they can help.
There are others with my obsession. There are artful stacks of rocks, called cairns, along most of the trails. Some are markers and some are just there. People are building rock sculptures that look like people. Others see a big granite slab and carefully place some small stones on top of it. I assume they feel like the big rock might be lonely and need some company. At some future date an archeologist may see my meandering rock outline and guess that perhaps it was a snake and part of nature worship. I have found the perfect rock to be the shell of a turtle. It is too heavy for me to move but when the camp ground is full I am hoping for some bored teenagers looking for something to do.
Odd that I shun “the gym” but totally enjoy picking up rocks.
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