Big Rock Little Rock
On Thursday October 1st I spent the morning with a group of 5 year old backpackers. They guided me into a gully, over boulders, and through gnarled thickets. As we scrambled along, the kids climbed through rock tunnels and shouted down to me from high above.
I navigated along slowly, learning the land, as they slid nimbly down granite rock sides and hopped on and over twisting branches. When we finally sat to catch our breath we noticed how the trees draped their spiderweb-like shadows onto the boulder planes. Squiggling, twisting and "X marks the spot," the shadows danced around us, and provided much needed respite for our sun-pinked cheeks.
We looked up and saw the Sandias wrapping around; looked down and spotted prized pebbles on the ground. Small rocks made light clattering noises as we threw them from our rock wall perch. Medium-sized rocks poked through concrete tables, and were organized as stairs that we ascended to an overlook. Large bulbous rocks gleamed bright in the sun, rough and smooth at the same time, perfect for sliding down.
It was a very physical day as we crunched, crushed, grasped, threw, touched, observed and scaled rocks of all sizes. We were captivated by their glittering and translucent qualities, their varied textures and precarious placements. We experienced the rocks in both micro and macro states...the pebbles became the boulders that created the towering mountaintop; then the mountain was divided down again into a single stone.