Rock or Fish? Haiku

Photo by Angie Quantrell

 

 

See the face?

Swimming amidst the wet sand.

Rocky bed for fish.

- Haiku and Photo by Angie Quantrell

Gates & Rock Walls

Not from Scotland, but English rock walls are just as captivating.

I just spent several long minutes drooling over the beauty of Scotland. Amazing collections of nature at its best. Enticing and gorgeous photos of the land, animals, and people of Scotland populate a social pinning-to-a-board site. You might know it as Pinterest.

Oh, God was surely doing some of His best work when He decorated nature in Scotland. The forests, rocks, beaches, lochs, waterfalls, cliffs, lakes, streams . . . beautiful and magnetic.

I want to go and explore every nook and cranny. It appears there are many in Scotland, nooks and crannies that is.

What I would love to do is adopt one of those moss-covered ancient rock walls, you know the ones that separate the fields, buildings, roads, and so on?

I love rocks.

At our house, we have plenty of rocks. Even old rocks, as far as rocks go, since all rocks are pretty old. But I think those in Scotland look older. Ambiance, right? But wouldn't one of those meandering rock walls look fabulous in my yard? Add a perfectly adorable weathered wood gate, and I would have to get a sheep or two to run around in the walled area.

And wouldn't I love to have an inviting gate, one that says, "Come on over here, see what's on the inside!" If there is an intriguing gate, don't you just want to go through it? I can barely restrain myself. But I prefer to not trespass unless otherwise invited.

Currently, we have chain link. Nothing imaginative there. Not even opaque. Just pure transparent wire.

While I may not live in Scotland and have one of their cool rock walls, I do know of some excellent gates that I get to go through. I get to enter those gates where the Lord is present. I get to fellowship with Him and give thanks. He has some seriously wonderful outrageous gates. Those are the gates I know I am welcome to pass through.

That's way better than Scottish rocks and gates.

Open for me the gates where the righteous enter and I will go in and thank the Lord. These gates lead to the presence of the Lord, and the godly enter there.
Psalm 118:19-20 (NLT)

Squirrel Part 2

There is was again! I saw it as I was returning from my coffee run. The furry little scoundrel was sitting by the side of the road at the top of the hill, preparing to run out into my path.

I doggedly checked all my options for squirrel avoidance - rear view mirror, side mirror, front window, sides, ditch...ready for anything.

And then I got right up to it. It froze in place and I breathed a sigh of relief.

That's when I saw it stayed frozen.

It was a rock.

Flotsam Jetsam

"(Flotsam, Jetsam, now I've got her boys) the boss is on a roll,"... sings the sea witch, Ursula, on Disney's Little Mermaid. Ursula certainly knows what to do with the items she finds around the ocean!

I found my own flotsam jetsam. Lots of it. Bricks, partial bricks, mini bricks, white rocks, rocks with circles, beach glass, shells, driftwood, rocks with holes, even a rusted shovel head. Determinedly I gathered them all into my trunk and brought them home for somewhere in my garden...somewhere...

Before departing the beach, I stacked rocks and bricks on the shovel head in hopes of keeping them from rolling around in the trunk. Not much chance of that, careful driver that I am. But it's those other drivers!

As soon as I drove into the garage, I started unloading my beach treasure. A few may call it trash. Then I say I am recycling and cleaning up the beach and am green.

To forestall beach stink (stuff left in plastic bags, buckets, and trunks) I quickly spread my treasure on the patio to dry out. Dumped is more like it. I was tired.

And that's when I saw it. My flotsam jetsam pile on the shovel head. Perfect for my front garden. As is. No arranging necessary. Just carry it to the front yard and place it next to the azalea and a few pieces of mysterious driftwood. Nature's beauty on display.

Now what to do with the remainder of my treasure haul?!!

Rock Hunting (and Washing)

One of my all-time favorite activities is rock hunting and washing. Simple yet entertaining. Opportunities for descriptive language learning are abundant. Get rock hunting!
1. Go rock hunting with your child. Let him or her invite a friend. Check fields, river sides, beaches, or anyplace rocks grow. Wink, wink. (Make sure you are allowed to hunt rocks.) Place dirty rocks in a canvas bag or cardboard box.
2. Fill a large tub with water. Provide old toothbrushes and bar soap. Let your child and his/her friend soak the rocks, brush soap off of the bar, and then scrub the rocks clean. If you are concerned about dirt and stains, make sure the children wear old clothes or cover up with one of your work shirts. The rock hunters will have a ball by themselves. Or, you can play along and throw in comments like: Which rock is heavier? Oh, that rock is shaped like a square. Which rock do you think looks like a ladybug? This rock is so smooth. That one is bumpy and lumpy...Encourage the children to decide what rocks resemble - the sillier, the more fun.
3. Let the rocks and kids dry in the sun. :)
4. If you want decorated rocks, place newspaper on a table, squirt acrylic paints on a paper plate, and put paintbrushes next to dry, clean rocks. Invite the artists to create their masterpiece rocks. For more permanent designs, when paint is dry, spray a coat of clear acrylic sealer over the top and let it dry. If you don't need permanence, arrange the rocks in the garden and the paint will eventually fade and flake off of the rocks.
5. Repeat steps as necessary.
Before you know it, you will have rock fiends of your own.

Pocket Full of Rocks

I love rocks. Just ask anyone in my family. Also old barns, but that's not in this post (ok, one thing about barns - I dream of renovating and living in an old barn!).

Collecting, admiring, photographing, and arranging (rearranging) rocks are my thing. I'm the kid on the beach with her britches half way down due to the sheer number of rocks in her pockets. Well, IF we grew up near the beach, that would be me. There were no beaches in Arizona. So we had desert rocks. Rocks are way cooler, interesting, and more dangerous in desert climates. One never knows what is under a desert rock, of course, unless one looks, right? :) Tarantula? Scorpion? Snake? It's like Christmas each time I picked up a rock. Don't tell my mom. She doesn't like snakes or other poisonous things.

I think my rock fetish goes way back to grade school - in the desert. There is not much to do on a dirt playground. Just play with dirt and rocks. So we created elaborate homes, outlined with small rocks. From there, pretend families, friends, and neighbors developed from classmates and other recess kids. When the bell rang, the rocks stayed in place, ready for our next excursion out into the heat.

As an adult I still collect rocks. I have many times enlisted my family and friends to help me haul my favorite finds to the car, and from thence into the garden scheme. I remember one specific camping trip with a college buddy. Rock collecting involved a huge canvas sack, a river, deep water, wet shoes and shorts, and both of us tugging the laden bag to the car, full of prizes. What a friend.

Don't even get me thinking about how OLD the rocks are. My maiden name is Hill. After a certain age, family relatives with the same last name constantly heard the 'old as the hills' comment. I'm thinking rocks are older than hills, since many many hills are made out of rocks...I love old stuff.

I'm don't discriminate against size, color, shape, weight, or location when I am on the hunt. Occasionally, I will look for rocks with one qualifying item. Like at the beach, I look only for rocks with holes or rings of white around them. On mountains, I like rocks with character and lichen. At my sister's place, large and bumpy (and movable) are prerequisites. Over my lifetime, I guess I have gathered and displayed several tons of rocks. I think some of my husband's back issues MAY stem from his willingness to lift the hefty prizes for his stone addled wife. ;0 (See the photo? I want that rock.)

As a teacher and mother, one of my all time favorite activities is, yep, rock collecting and washing. My kids grew up loving to wash rocks using a big plastic tub, water, old toothbrushes, and bar soap. It's amazing how entertained young kids are when they have a stack of dirty river rocks. The rocks ended up either somewhere in the garden or painted and displayed on pieces of furniture. And talk about cheap gifts. Blob on some bright colors, seal with acrylic spray, and voila, a paperweight, napkin holder, objet d'art, birthday gift...

Rocks are such a natural part of landscaping. I use them in planters. I love the way succulents and rocks go together, and the way plants creep over rocks, softening the edges and making them melt into 'been like this forever.' I create ways to make paths, borders, designs, and focal points with rocks. I especially enjoy large rocks with natural dips and holes perfect for water spots. Which leads me to my next favorite pastime, gardening for insects. Insects love natural water holes...

I know I'm not the only one. Rock fiend forever.