I had a dream the other night that we moved to a house in the suburbs. It had some big old trees which I loved, but then I realized there were no rocks. It made me so sad to think I would be living without rocks.
Cambridge is filled with rocks. There’s a joke that they’re the biggest harvest in the area. Every year, with the spring rain, there are more. And this is after hundreds of years of farming the land.
I don’t know much about geology, but I am drawn to the aesthetics of rocks. Sometimes I take them back to my gardens so I can see them everyday, and sometimes I leave them where they are and visit them in the place they occupy.
This rock is in the back pasture by the gate. It’s surrounded by clover so I imagine the animals, who all love clover, will keep it from getting overgrown. If not, if it does disappear in the grasses for the summer, I know I’ll see it again when they die back in the fall.
