The Heart Rocks.

Grandfathers. Grandmothers...

In the garden, on the porch,
in the living room, bedroom, bathroom,
in the kicthen window and built into the walls.
On my desk, in the car & sometimes, around my neck.
From the woods, the rivers and the salty sea
From places and spaces that used to be
to now and eternity...

Grandfathers & Grandmothers.

"The Grandfathers are rocks, stones, things I pick up and carry with me. They are called Grandfathers because they possess all knowledge. They have been here on Mother Earth for all time and have seen everything that man has done to Mother earth. They hold all the teachings. They are made from the bones and hair and blood of those that walked before us. So, we call them Grandfathers, (and Grandmothers)."~ Spado

Having Monday & Tuesday off I had hoped to go camping, but instead ended up taking the path photographed. The hills were deceptively steep & the soft, moist clay and dirt were riddled with deer prints...untainted yet by the summers' crowd. The trail itself disappeared upon us, opening up into a hillside field. We trapsed on through to the otherside. We stopped and listened. So quiet but humming with life.

At the basin of our trail laid a quick moving, rambling little creek which fed into the river where we had left the car. We ventured down to the creek. There was a log that went across the creek that looked like a great place to sit after our little hike.

I simultaneously tried to straddle the creek and jump my bum up onto the fallen tree and when my hands grabbed onto the log...my right one landed onto this little fellow. A small heart shaped grandfather...perhaps, the soul mate to my sisters' latest find.

Rocks. Seashells. Keepers. Savers & Givers.
Grandfathers & Grandmothers. So wise...