Living With Rocks


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.

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