I collect rocks.
We vacation in Phoenicia, NY on the Esopus river. Smooth round stones are everywhere. Each time, I come back with an armful in the trunk. Instead of watching TV, I spend the evenings painting on them. Mostly mandalas.
Some of these stones were given as gifts or ended up in our pond at moms. Other's are placed around our home, piles placed on the floor or window sills.
Special ones were gathered from Lake Titicaca.
Along with the river stones, are gem stones: Amethyst, carnelian, turquoise, geodes placed strategically around as well.
I was surprised when the camp director pulled out three stones from her pocket the last day at camp. She said she felt naked without them.. always carrying them. One she had used to have words on it and were rubbed off with time. Worry stones.
What is this comfort we get from holding stones?
They are like the bones of the earth. solid. grounding. slow to change.
One more week here and then we leave for the cabin there.
I rest on rocks heated by the sun, allowing it's heat to penetrate my back as I lie down, with my feet dangling in the cool running water. Just being. soaking up the energy of the place. resting. rejuvenating.... and gathering stones.