Lately, I’ve been arranging rocks on the shore of the lake. I think about the contrast between the permanence of the rocks themselves and the transitory nature of what I do with them. I never know how long something I create will last.
Today I spent an hour selecting white rocks in graduated sizes, creating a spiral on a three foot wide stump. Thinking about the path I travel, getting caught up in tiny details of small stones as the curve tightens in the center.
And then, just as I started to take photos from a vantage point above the shore, a boy came along, momentarily considered the design, and within 5 seconds flung all of the rocks into the lake in two swift motions.
And climbed triumphantly onto the stump to kick off one remaining rock.
And it was gone. But the rocks and the stump remain, and I can create again another day.
I felt sorry for the boy, choosing to destroy rather than to just appreciate. I hope that someday I will see someone choose to add to one of my arrangements. But the joy is in creating, and there is meaning for me in the deliberate process.
It was a good day.