Discuss: Cloudy Is the Stuff of Stones

So many memories of raising a son that collected rocks and grandchildren on walks with me finding different shapes and colors.  I would carry them in my pockets for them to keep.  I usually had a skirt that had big pockets, when I would go out with the children One would say “Grammie do you have on your play skirt?”  I always did and the pockets would be full of their treasures that would remind me of the time we explored.  Thanks for renewing my memories of stones and pebbles.

thanks for this, tony doerr…
i just came back from the coastline of california, and from the disheveled bowels of my suitcase i pulled out stone after stone, in the shapes of hearts, criss crossed with white on black, lined with creases, and one small bit of driftwood in the shape of a small perched bird.  pebbles, stones, rocks gather on every level surface of this house - tables, the hearth, the windowsill of a bathroom where the sun spills in after lunch.  there are stones marked with x’s, some marked with o’s, stones that grow warm in the sun, that grow warm in my vest pocket when walking along the river’s edge.  i pity the person who has to cull these things once i am gone - one person’s treasure, another one’s burden….

Before I, in California, calve off and slide smoking into the ocean, let me say thank you Anthony Doerr, and Orion, for this fine piece to remind me that i’m not the only one who has tables and bowls, ledges and pockets full of rocks—warm to the touch, reminders of the hubris of permanence.

This writing is so profound and meaningful to me that it brought tears to my eyes. What a way with words, Mr. Doerr!!  I live and breath geology, rocks, and minerals. I recently had a large room built onto my house just to showcase minerals,fossils, gem stones and articles and books on those subjects. I will print and frame this article to put in that room.

Once I too loved to bring home stones from mountain places, rocks from wild rivers, pebbles from beaches and then one day I realised that they too had families, that they too had purpose of being totally unbeknown to me.Recently an aboriginal elder took us to a local beach and showed us the hugest pile of beautifully marked black and white stones and said,” dont ever take them from here. They are souls that have been sung onto this beach and will continue their journey at some stage out to that island of ascension.”
For me it is about listening and asking, paying deep respect to all my relations and allowing them their own way.
After all I am the rock dreaming the rock dreaming me.

Anthony Doerr has just become my favorite author! I just read Four Seasons in Rome for the second time and it has a place of honor on my bookshelf, one of the few non-reference books I haven’t given away.

He’s like no one else I’ve read.  His understanding and description of how everything is connected is awesome!