It was third grade. From my house, I walked down the hill and inched my way to the creek looking for rocks. The moving water intrigued me as much as it terrified my father. I never knew if the child drownings he reported really happened or not, but it made me all the more cautious. I was looking for rocks. Opening my field guide I matched each rock to the description. Before I left, I had collected about a dozen samples to bring to school for Sister Mary Peter. Clutching the small bag of rocks as I scrambled up the hill, I couldn't wait to get home and let all the rocks tumble onto the floor to ready for closer examination. My find.
Last Sunday, I spent time on the beach-just exploring. This time I left the rocks behind, but not until I took a photo of my find. A keepsake to feed a passion that began long ago.
4 comments:
Love your description of your rock hunt. My daughter loves collecting rocks from our vacation spot (and they are cheap keepsakes).
It's amazing how many people are fascinated with rocks. My husband is a rock collector. Our kids enjoyed collecting rocks and fossils and even though they are adults they still have their collections. Our grand kids are the same. I enjoyed your post today.
This is such a sweet memory. I love the fact that, at that young age, you carried a field guide and also heeded your dad's warnings. It sounds like this could morph into a middle grades novel. Your character development is strong.
I love exploring and finding nature's treasures too. Thanks for sharing.
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