My father was a geologist and I loved spending time outdoors with him, noticing and studying rocks. This is how I grew up outdoors. I was thinking of this this week as I found myself being drawn to check on the state of one of my favourite creeks. What is it I’m actually attracted to? The rocks or, the water?
This stretch of Chelsea Creek provides both as most creeks do. As I sit on the bank studying the flow of water to find the sections I’d like to photograph, I notice how the water and rocks do a beautiful dance together. The water plays with the colours of the rocks and then in return the rocks shape the water flow.
Here are some photos of Chelsea Creek in the early evening, and a poem by Mary Oliver about stones and water.
WATERING THE STONES
Every summer I gather a few stones from
the beach and keep them in a glass bowl.
Now and again I cover them with water,
and they drink. There’s no question about
this; I put tinfoil over the bowl, tightly,
yet the water disappears. This doesn’t
mean we ever have a conversation, or that
they have the kind of feelings we do, yet
it might mean something. Whatever the
stones are, they don’t lie in the water
and do nothing.
Some of my friends refuse to believe it
happens, even though they’ve seen it. But
a few others-I’ve seen them walking down
the beach holding a few stones, and they
look at them rather more closely now.
Once in a while, I swear, I’ve even heard
one or two of them saying “Hello.”
Which, I think, does no harm to anyone or
anything, does it?
– Mary Oliver, From Blue Horses, 2014
