Something about having other people around my place, particularly people I like, makes me want to do things.
When I’m alone I can fart around, often a bit too much. But when somebody’s here, I can barely stand to sit around, especially when it’s Jack.
When it’s Jack, well, we’ve just both got so much to teach eachother that we very well ought to get to it.
Today we moved a second big piece of quartz, one that was revealed in the river on the edge of the property. It was faster, but a hell of a lot harder to get it from there to here. We didn’t drag it, we lifted it and carried it.
When I’m alone I can fart around, often a bit too much. But when somebody’s here, I can barely stand to sit around, especially when it’s Jack.
When it’s Jack, well, we’ve just both got so much to teach eachother that we very well ought to get to it.
Today we moved a second big piece of quartz, one that was revealed in the river on the edge of the property. It was faster, but a hell of a lot harder to get it from there to here. We didn’t drag it, we lifted it and carried it.
I’m not sure why I like carrying stones so much. It’s awfully hard to do. I christened this land by gathering stones from the river, as heavy as I could carry, and placing them around the locust tree. I thought I’d gather more for the fire pit, and I will. My main preoccupation right now is quartz. Something about the crystal charm of it draws me, like summer snow or stars in the forest. Some big beautiful pieces, I just want closer. I want them to mark my pastures and my places. That desire is multiplied by the simple fact that they are a testament to ingenuity and labor. I can look at either of these stones and think of moving them with Jack, and that’s a memory I treasure as much, or more, than the stone itself, beautiful as that stone of significance may be.