Relative Something

Back in the first week of August, I posted about the bush at the front door of our house dying an unexplained death. A few days after I published the picture, I arrived home from work to find the dead branches all gone.

Cyndie had cut it back to the main trunk, saving that for me in case I wanted to balance some rocks on it.

That was all the invitation I needed.

I didn’t actually believe this would last as long as it has. When I pass by with the lawn tractor while mowing, I fully expect the stone to topple over from the vibration, but it has survived multiple mowings thus far without falling. There have been a few rainy and windy days, too, but it continues to stand.

I never expect balanced rocks to last, but when they endure for long periods of time, I grow increasingly attached to them. It becomes hard to try something fresh after they come down, because I get more interested in trying to get back what we had before.

That’s probably a good metaphorical life-lesson for me right there.

I’ll ponder that as I gaze a while longer at the mesmerizing balanced stone.

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