I lifted another rock from the river today. The first of what will be a ring around the fire pit.
When I find these rocks I look around for the very limit of what I can pick up then and there with no consideration for the trek back.
When I find these rocks I look around for the very limit of what I can pick up then and there with no consideration for the trek back.
Can I lift it at all?
If I can, I start the long teetering journey.
Truth be told, I think I could approach a fair few other things in my life with this attitude of reckless abandon. But maybe it has its place in stones and stones alone.
It’s that contrast that I like. To go from working on the computer, to barely thinking as I haul a stone up a muddy hill. The ring of stones around the tree, and the ring of stones to be, are testaments to a hundred groans, a thousand, maybe, and countless heartbeats.