Skippin' Rocks

I'm old now. Lately I've been thinking back on some of the best things in life.
It's hard to believe but rocks are one of them.

Skipping rocks for example.
First you need a lake. There can't be people fishing because they'll object to your rock throwing for sure.  It's best if its getting on towards dusk.  Then look carefully to find just the right rocks. My favorites are oval and flattish.  Finally, with a kind of a sideways throw, send one gloriously sailing just barely on top of the water. Be sure to count as it flies out there and skips...... three, four, five, six.
My brother Mark is the best rock skipper I know. Once at Willow Springs Lake I saw him make one go to eight or more. We couldn't see the last part in the twilight.

Rock hopping over a mountain creek is good too.
The water has to be crystal clear and icy cold.  And it should be shallow but running briskly.
Rounded stones, half submerged, mark a path across and down the creek bed. Every now and then there's a convenient boulder where you can sit and watch the little, long legged water bugs that stand right on top of the water in the still shallows. Their feet make tiny dimples on the surface. Dragonflies flit by now and then and sunlight falls in patches through the trees that line the banks. Sometimes yellow columbines, my favorite flower, grow close to the water in the shade. They grow wild among the grapevines, poison ivy and sumac.
But don't bring a little shovel to dig up those lovely columbines to take home to plant.  You'll be sorry in the morning.
And of course, there's that amazing mountain creek smell, all cool and woodsy.

And rock hunting on the beach makes for one of the best treasure hunts ever.
That's because beaches have these really cool sea stones. They're perfectly round or oval, and almost flat. It's the rolling around in the sand and surf that does it I guess. I've found these in all colors and sizes but prefer the ones about the size of a quarter, small enough to hold in my hand or sit in a little pile in a tiny bowl on my desk. I'd rather have these than diamonds for some strange reason.

It can get out of hand though. That rock collecting thing.
My daughter Kim once took a fancy to some perfectly roundish boulders the size of loaves of bread that she discovered on a beach in San Diego. She picked out a bunch in assorted colors and made her dad and me help her haul them up the steep hill to the car, one at a time because they were so heavy. It took several exhausting trips. This was years ago. Since then she's moved to Washington, Oregon and back to the desert again, each time lugging those darned rocks. Currently they sit decoratively in a heap in a large basket on the floor of her family room.
Boy, if rocks could talk.  What's that old saying about rocks being dumb?

All this beach rock talk reminds me that beaches are great for other things too. Like kite flying.  Which still eventually leads to rocks.

You see, there's always a reliable breeze at the beach. And I found a place that sells the most wonderful kites. They make huge nylon ones which last forever. And the colors and shapes are amazing. Tropical pink, purple, turquoise blue, and emerald green are my favorites. You can send parrots, frogs, pirate ships, or bunches of daffodils sailing up on the ocean winds.
I used to suspend them from my classroom ceiling when school began because they were so beautiful and reminded me of summer all year long.

Beach kite flying is ridiculously easy. Just let your line out a ways while a kid holds the kite facing the ocean breeze. Depending on the wind direction you might have to stand in the surf. Pull back and the kite goes straight up! No running needed!  Get it way, way, way, up there. Then go sit on the sand to admire the bright colors you put into that endless blue sky.
And look for rocks while you're sitting there. Or dig holes in the wet sand.
Wet sand is just millions and millions of tiny rocks you know.

Build a castle maybe. Or sculpt a dolphin.
Our daughters once made a lifesized sand dolphin on a beach in Santa Barbarba. We came back the next day to see that the tide had almost finished taking it back out to sea.
That's one of the best ways to spend an hour or two in August.
Playing in the sand.

Sitting around a campfire at night is another best thing.
Rocks again.
Because first you need to gather up a bunch of pretty fair sized boulders to make a ring for the fire. It's work, but then what are kids for anyway?
Then, when whatever busyness or frolic that went on during the day is over, and camp dishes are done, it'll be time to just sit around the fire. Prop your feet on the rocks where they'll be warm. Talk and maybe even sing. Sparks drift up into the night, logs snap and crackle, flames softly dance, smoke annoys, and embers glow.
What is it about gazing into a campfire that mesmerizes?  Life seems to slow down. Faces soften in the flickering light and even the conversation seems more relaxed.
One thing puzzles me though. Why do kids always incinerate the marshmallows for s'mores? Am I the only one who can toast one properly so that it's all melted inside and nicely browned on the outside?
It's a very important lifeskill, that.

And don't forget about moonlight.
The moon's really just a big rock sailing around the earth you know.
But there's something almost magical about it, isn't there?
My old husband still looks incredibly handsome in the moonlight even after all these years. It gets in what's left of his hair and makes his eyes sparkle.
It falls on his shoulders and then I remember things.
Things that can sometimes happen in the moonlight.

Yep, some of the best things in life are really simple.
Like rocks.
I'm grateful for them. They've added to my happiness. Rocks have.
Look around today and remember some of your best simple things.
Then thank Father.
It was Father who made them. To gladden our hearts and delight our eyes. It says so in the scriptures.
Thank you, Father. I know it was you who did that. Because you loved us.
Thank you so much for the good things.