Posts Tagged ‘stones’
Small Stones
In the realm of balancing stones, oftentimes, smaller ones are more challenging. While the balance might be less robust, frequent collapses are generally harmless and the re-balancing can be accomplished with minor effort. I had stones on my desk at work and would frequently close a drawer too hard and dislodge the top one in a stack of three.
There is a nurturing profundity in the exercise of repeatedly returning the stone to its previous balance.
Of course, in that instance, it was always just the top one that rolled away. A stack like the one pictured above would more likely involve them all tumbling down.
I am often intrigued by the mean time between toppling. It is a frequent surprise that a balance lasts much longer than I expect would be likely.
Small stone stacks as workspace trinkets are pretty much contradictory choices unless the desk is solid and the work is sedate. In more precarious environs, I see the small three-stone setup as available for temporary balancing diversions that can otherwise be allowed to lay around unstacked.
Three stones set in single-plane arrangements are no less enticing to a discerning eye. The energy of elements is still present.
Next time you see some eye-catching stones lying about, pick them up and experiment with balancing them, one on top of the next.
You just might find yourself keeping a stack as ornamentation on your desk.
They are pieces of our planet that provide a pleasant rock-solid reminder of our natural world for times we are stuck indoors.
And couldn’t we all do with a little more balance in our lives?
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Latest Word
I have a habit of getting stuck on a pattern of frequent reuse of a particular word. The latest word that I’ve noticed –usually it happens without my being aware– is “gorgeous.” In terms of a hot August day at the lake, the word is well suited to describe yesterday.
After a lazy soak in the lake, Cyndie and I lost ourselves in an over-fascination with picking rocks that grabbed our fancy.
“I like this one.”
“Oooh, look at this!”
“Here’s one for you.”
In the water, they look so shiny and bright. Cyndie brings up a pile of them to keep, all of which tend to turn into much less spectacular stones after they’ve dried.
I like shapes and textures. Tear drop and smooth.
Both of our eyes are drawn to the ones with lines of different color layers.
I noticed an urge to break some open to get another view of the layers. That thought brought back a memory of hammering different colored stones to dust with my siblings to make layered sand art jars.
I remember thinking those always turned out gorgeous.
And for the record, this August weather totally rocks!
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Leaning Over
The heavy rock that took five people to lift into place on the boulders at the center of our labyrinth has survived the worst that winter tossed its way. It didn’t fall out and roll to the ground. However, it did lean over to a significant degree.
I think it might be a metaphor for how Cyndie and I feel after the number of challenges we have faced in the last few months, starting with the unexpected death of our lead horse, Legacy.
Just as we began to think we were coming to terms with one thing, another challenge would blow in on us. It all pretty much tipped us over to a similar degree. It occurred to us, more than once, that one way to avoid falling to earth would be by simply choosing to jump down of our own volition.
It’s funny. In a way, it took a leap of faith in the first place to get where we are today. Now we have wondered about taking a leap right back out of here, to be done with the struggles confounding our original vision.
The thing is, as crucial a part of our dream as Legacy was, I don’t want his dying to linger as the insurmountable disturbance that extinguished the flame of possibility for good. It doesn’t do proper justice to him or his name. Losing Legacy can be a powerful lesson for us to grasp and embrace.
Really, anything we might accomplish going forward, will be in honor of him and all he contributed here.
This past weekend, for the first time since he died, we witnessed the three chestnuts execute a completely unexpected “Emergency Response Drill.” It was a big deal to us. Legacy, as herd leader, used to initiate these surprise escape drills at feeding time as a way to see he could get the herd moving in a moments notice, even if it meant leaving their food.
They all run away with a full-speed urgency that implies all lives are at stake. At about ten paces away, they pull up short, turn around to assess the situation, and then walk back and finish eating.
It’s invigorating to watch, especially when you just so happen to be standing in the vicinity with a manure scoop, at risk of being inadvertently trampled by their frantic departure.
Neither Cyndie nor I spotted who initiated the drill, but simply knowing the herd is resuming their group behaviors was comforting. I don’t know if this will culminate in a clear establishment of a new leader, but I’m pleased to see they are working on some kind of arrangement.
Cyndie reported that the mares initiated another drill yesterday, while Hunter just happened to be rolling on the wet, muddy ground, which forced him to abort his plan and get back to his feet, pronto.
Yes, they are definitely working on something. Poor guy is outnumbered now, so I won’t be surprised if either Cayenne (who has always behaved like a big sister with him) or Dezirea end up filling the role as primary head of their household.
We’ve all been pushed over a little bit since the start of the year, but we haven’t hit the ground.
Knowing the horses are working things out, and having a brood of new chicks to fawn over, helps provide inspiration for us to visualize righting ourselves and doing Legacy proud.
I think we are making strides toward steadying ourselves to lean into whatever might unfold next.
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Many Hands
From the moment we arranged the two boulders in the center location of what was to become the Rowcliffe Forest Garden Labyrinth, I envisioned a third stone resting upon them. The first challenge to fulfilling that vision was finding the right stone.
It needed to be the right shape and size, which I knew would mean the perfect stone would be too heavy for me to lift.
My quest for the specific stone was complicated by the fact that, without significant disruption, I couldn’t use trial and error to decide. Dealing with a such a heavy stone would mean the first one placed in that spot would likely be the only one placed in that spot.
Over the years, I experimented with light-weight objects to assist my eye for identifying what size and shape of rock I was looking for. Perfection proved to be hard to come by among the rock piles around our property, but last year I finally found one that had good potential.
It was buried in the woods, located conveniently close to the labyrinth. Using a small piece of woven fence panel and a strap, I created a sling to move it. Then I enlisted Cyndie –back when she still had two strong shoulders– to see if two people could do it.
It worked, enough to prove the concept, anyway. We stopped after getting it to the edge of the trail. There it sat for most of the year, because I wasn’t sure how to safely get it lifted high enough to position it atop the two boulders.
Yesterday, I realized we had the many hands of adventurous strong guys available to make the work light.
It’s a whole ‘nother story that we hosted a gathering at Wintervale with the families of Cyndie’s late aunt, Joan Brolin, to celebrate Christmas in September. That tale will likely get told in coming days.
I hadn’t thought about it in advance, but conversation somehow led to the topic of my wanting to figure out how to lift the heavy stone and place it. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, shared a video about a man who could move heavy objects by himself, using simple aids.
Cyndie’s cousin, Tom, thought we had enough hands and wanted to check it out. I grabbed a tape measure for one last confirmation that this stone would be the right size for what I was hoping to accomplish.
With little in the way of complications, five of us were able to move it, lift it high enough, roll it into place, and then rock it into a position that was stable.
It was an extremely satisfying triumphant moment for me.
Thank you to Cyndie’s brothers, Ben and Steve, and cousins Tom and Mike for helping fulfill my dream. And thank you to my daughter, Elysa, for capturing the event on my phone.
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Snowy Stones
We have been on the roller coaster of spring weather lately, mixing beautiful warm days with blasts of wintery cold. We wake up to snow and it melts by the time the sun gets high. It feels a little crazy-making, but I love the way it looks.
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Capturing Images
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Three recent views from Wintervale that reflect what I get to gaze upon when wandering around our place.
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Barn Chores
During the previous weekend we finished creating the stone walkway out the back door of the barn. Looks good now, but I am wary of how well it will hold up to the ravages of changing seasons and expected usage. Most often, that is the route out of the barn for the wheelbarrow full of manure and soiled wood shavings, after the horses have needed to spend a night indoors during the coldest of brutal nights.
Maybe we won’t have very many severe cold nights this coming winter, what with the forecast of a super El Niño intensity unseen in 50 years. I wonder if the global climate is being impacted by human activity? (I just can’t help myself, putting a question mark at the end of my “I wonder” statements.)
I will be surprised if our stone placements survive their first winter of shoveling and freezing without needed some level of maintenance when next spring arrives, but for the minimal effort we put into the project, I think the path is adequate for now.
At the very least, it’s a heck of a lot nicer to look at.
With the stones all in place, the next task receiving our attention became the stalls in the barn. Taking advantage of some dry September air, we pulled floor mats out of the stalls for washing, and raked out the dirt floors so they could air out.
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While standing in the stalls, it occurred to me that I need to get to work designing new slow feeding hay boxes for each one. The current setup allows the horses to pull hay out freely, dumping it on the floor, where it goes to waste and leaves them with nothing to eat.
A smaller version of the two boxes I’ve already built will offer a perfect solution for that.
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Snake Aversion
Why did it have to be snakes? All I wanted to do was pick a few rocks. One of the first that I lifted uncovered a young garter snake, causing a typical startle, despite my awareness of the likelihood of the possibility. The stone garden on the side of our house where we have a fire pit, happens to be the spot where snakes are known to reside.
I am not a fan.
The next rock I moved revealed the ghost of a snake, skin that had been outgrown, which conjures an image which has the potential of being even more shudder-worthy than the real thing. There is a snake larger than this lurking somewhere nearby. The power of the mind makes this more ominous than an actual snake.
All this anxiety-inducing effort I was engaged in was for a good purpose, of course. I worked yesterday to replace the plastic grates on the path out the back door of the barn, with stones.
Upon simply placing the first few stones, it became so obvious this was a better solution, both functionally and aesthetically, that I marvel over why we didn’t do it at first.
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Some improvements take a couple tries before we get them right.
In a way, I think this path will mean more to me now, after having first tried something that didn’t work out as well as I imagined it might. It will certainly be worth the repeated scares I endured while hunting for the perfect stepping-stones from the snake-infested quarry beyond our deck.
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Relative Something 