As you can see, every once in awhile I change the blog to the flip-card template. I am going to do it once a month or so. That way, if you missed something and didn't know it you will be able to see it at a glance. Also, if you wanted to revisit something for some reason it will be super easy to get back to, just click on any square and it will open for you. I will take the blog back to its normal template after a day or two. FYI
While reading a friend's blog post, Grace's Cairn, this morning I remembered something beautiful I wanted to share with you. There is a basket that sits on my coffee table most of the time. The basket is full of shells and rocks, pieces of wood and a bit of sea glass; things I have carried home from excursions near and far. Some of the shells belonged to my mother, carried home from Mexico. Some had been brought back to her from the sands of Bikini Beach in the south pacific, picked up by a soldier as he was heading home. Some are from the lake on a farm where my children used to swim in the summers when they were young. Some are from Skeleton Creek that winds its way past my house. There is wood from the mountains of New Mexico and stones from Arizona, Nova Scotia and an island off the coast of Ireland. There is an arrowhead from the farm on which my mother was born in the Oklahoma panhandle.
I love to look at and handle them because I can feel the place where they came from, when I hold them in my hand; a reminder of the interconnectedness of the earth. They also make beautiful music as they clink and tap against each other; earth tones which sooth and quiet. They know they are all family, regardless of where they happened to have come to rest.
When the smallest grandkids are here for a visit we usually move the basket to a higher location so the little rocks won't be popped into curious mouths and swallowed. However, the other day Zane and Rowan were here playing and the basket happened to be on the table. We began to look through the treasures, even little Rowan who is only 1 year young and a serious believer in popping things into his tiny mouth. I kept a close eye on him and only one rock made it into his mouth, but it quickly came back out. Obviously not food.
After reading about Grace's creation I went over to see what the boys had left in the basket. The Garfield County clam shells still held their treasures and I noticed there had been some additions. A beautiful blue crayon had been brought over along with one of the Chinese chiming balls from the music room and the smallest of our singing frogs from South America, also from the other end of the house.
In more non-musical additions I found a tiny white arm from the miniature Mr. Potato Head, a man's metal collar stay, and a quarter. All were appropriate in size for the collection. What fun! Little hands finding little things hidden around the house and carrying them to this place of gathering to be admired and played with.