Yesterday afternoon, with temperatures at a near-balmy 72 degrees, I was lamenting the end of my precious jacket weather. Nothing left for me but short sleeved shirts and sad times.
This afternoon, it was 39 degrees . . . and falling. Gotta love the spring yo-yo weather here in Alabama. I proudly donned my long coat as I left work, cold and happy. They’re even mentioning snow showers for tonight. Oh, it would be so lovely.
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I saw my parents and sister this afternoon; they were coming through Fort Payne on their way back from New York City and surrounding Yankee burgs. They brought me back my favorite present, too: rocks.
No, seriously. They brought me rocks, and I’m the happier for it. Rocks are another slight obsession of mine, along with books, jackets, and people named Hans . . . . . Anyway, I got a rock from Central Park, two from Little Round Top, one from Seminary Ridge, and one other, but I’ve forgotten and I don’t want to get up to go look; I’d rather explain my laziness.
I need to figure out what to do with all my rocks, especially the ones from neat places. I got a bunch from Europe when I went in 1999. I even have a piece of a brick from the hotel we stayed at in Florence. Ken pulled it out of the wall for me.
My most favorite rock from the Europe trip, though, is the one I pulled out of one of the foundations of an ancient Roman building. About the size of a finger, it was mixed with other bits of rock and stuff in a Roman cement that supported the weight of people like Cesar, Marcus Aurelius, and those lesser-famed Romans. For 2000 years it stayed there and watched the world go by, until I came along and picked it up that hot July day while our group rested in the shade, hearing about how a pagan temple still exists today because it was converted into a Christian church, thus saving it from destruction.
How cool is that rock? It sure beats any cheap naked Roman statuette that you could get at any kiosk in the city. Besides, I have a Roman God of a husband now that I can see at my leisure.
Yeah, baby.
I wonder what I should do with my menagerie of worldly rocks. My first thought is to get a nifty shadowbox-type thing and arrange them all specimen-like, with labels. That’s the scientist in me talking. The artist in me wonders if I should try something more elaborate, like carve the rocks into the shape of the place they came from and make a rocky map. But that sounds sorta hard. I’ll figure out something else.
Until then, I’ll stay on the lookout for more neat rocks, like that concave one I took from Little River Canyon even though that’s sorta not allowed. I’ll do something spectacular with them someday; maybe when I get a yard.
If you see a cool rock, bring it to me.