Overlooking the house I am building is a rock. A big chuck of granite unearthed from the very place my house now stands.
In the afternoon after the sun has warmed the surface with its loving rays, this stone feels like home, warm and inviting. It doesn’t matter if I sit on it with feet dangling in the grasses below, legs tucked under me, or even just needing a good sprawl – this rock fits all sitting needs. But best of all, I am just the right size to turn my rock into a wonderful place to take an afternoon snooze.
A breeze blows gently to cool my sun warmed skin. Little animals will go about their business of harvesting for winter around me, never noticing the sleeping giant amongst them. And the glorious rays of summer’s passing warmth radiate downward from a sky so blue it makes one want to weep at the beauty.
On days when life is moving too quickly, winter approaching faster than I can tolerate, the stone offers a very grounding presence. It is solid and to my life span, eternal.
I have lain dormant in a shadowy cave for many years. On this rock, overlooking my future gardens and home, I begin to feel the warmth of life breathing into my soul again.