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Stones in my pockets

01.06.2012 - 15:54


Jamie from A Pair of Pears wrote about rocks on Dearest Nature Blog. Her reminiscing of childhood reminded me of how my pockets used to be filled with small stones.

It wasn't that sort of collecting where you find certain types of stones and file them meticulously with the type and the place. It wasn't anything close to that pro.

I was picking the pretty stones. Any piece of rock that would satisfy my young sense of aesthetics I would pick up an put into my pocket. Shine, interesting colors, a smooth surface or a curious shape would suffice.

My dad still jokes about how I filled my pockets with stones so that wind wouldn't catch me. I almost always had one or two in my pockets, making my mom nuts trying to wash the clothes.

I haven't lost my interest in pretty pieces of rock. Today I don't that much take them with me, as I take photos of them. Rock surfaces and stones alike.

The smooth, water molded pieces I may keep. But I don't fill my pockets with them anymore.

Suomeksi (In Finnish): 

Lapsena keräsin kiviä. En siis keräillyt niitä niin, että olisin etsinyt tietyn tyyppisiä kiviä ja sitten arkistoinut niitä systemaattisesti. Keräsin kauniita kiviä, kiiltäviä kiviä, sileitä ja hassun muotoisia. Isäni vitsailee vieläkin, että keräsin taskuni täyteen kiviä, etten lähtisi lentoon tuulen mukana. Kiinnostukseni kiviä kohtaan ei ole sinänsä kadonnut. Nykyään enimmäkseen vain kuvaan niitä. Jonkun sileän, veden muotoileman saatan pitääkin, mutta en enää täytä taskujani kivillä, joita löydän polkujeni varsilta.



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2 replies for "Stones in my pockets

Of summer and the Weekly Wrapup by tasselflower's picture
[...] Stones in my pockets - "I filled my pockets with stones so that wind wouldn't catch me." [...]
Day 7: Nature (#BlogFlash2013) | the tasselflower blog's picture
[...] Though I enjoy city life, nature is always with me. Down and deep. I point my camera at bugs and flowers, trees and natural landscapes, snow and sky. I love running the path that goes through a forrest and by a small river that runs to the sea. I pick up a pretty pebble and put it in my pocket. [...]