Rock on

Maybe I’m just a big weirdo, but I seriously LOVE rocks. I have since I was a little bitty girl. My mom always had to check my pockets for rocks before she washed my clothes. I’m still likely to pick up a rock I like and put it in my pocket. I have asked for rocks as gifts.


This is petrified wood. A Christmas gift last year.

This trait must be genetic because my Granny loved rocks too. She hunted for them on her farm in Kentucky. I always remember looking at those rocks when I’d visit her. To me, they were like fancy jewels. She kept the prettiest ones in a curio cabinet. It made them seem even more special.

When she passed away I brought some of those rocks to my house.



Just as I’ve written about it before, like the little chair she made,  I look at the rocks she found and imagine her searching for them.

My girls have the same love of these little gems as my Granny and me. They will search the yard or wherever we are out and about. Then they’ll come in and scrub or examine their rocks with magnifying glasses to see what treasures they’ve just discovered.


This is part of a huge rock in our yard.

Yesterday, they broke open geodes for science. The excitement of what it was going to look like on the inside was real for each of us. The hard work (and small injury of a hit thumb) of cracking them open was so worth it when the interior was revealed. They are just beautiful. I am amazed at how something that looks so ordinary from the outside can be so stunningly beautiful on the inside.  However, this is not only true of rocks, is it?!




I think that may be why we love them so much. There is something about looking for the special, beautiful, and wondrous in ordinary things. It’s a gift to be able to look beyond the outside and look inside or even to look at all.

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