I picked the coldest week to be sitting on a rock but managed to do it today, although not in “my place.” I’m visiting with a friend on a lake up north. I chose a large rock on the shoreline, with shades of gold and grey, it’s sides covered in snow. The 15 minutes went by way faster than I thought as I sat and felt the cold, hardness of the rock surface. I wondered about how long that rock had been there and how it just sat there, experiencing all kinds of weather and water and animals and people. My sitting was a way of providing some warmth on the chilly day. I felt the rough, gritty surface and some of it came apart in my hands. Yet, it will be there for many years more I’m sure. I observed people ice fishing on the lake and it was very calm and quiet, a slight breeze coming from the south.
I’ve spent much of this week thinking of rock as I wandered this week. I’m mostly in Toronto’s downtown core, where rock tends to be used with purpose, rather than, well, waiting for me to ponder it/them. And this week I feel like I’m stumbling across rock.
I became aware of the voice of rock last year, when I spent time along the shorelines of Bruce Peninsula and Lake Superior. Those rocks felt immutable, even when they stood, seeming to withstand the force of water in strong flowing rivers, or resting where the’ve been deposited by glaciers.
They had striking colours from when different minerals fused together, giving me a sense of ‘deep time,’ (I love that phrase. I want to lie on or even soak in that phrase). Black volcanic rock that almost smells of age.
But. Here. Where I am. I’ve seen rock used in architecture, whether it’s smooth granite used in financial district buildings, the formidable chipped rocks used in the architecture of Old City Hall, even houses whose outer walls are built with large rocks and stone.
What I see, or grasp, is utility. I’ve seen rock placed as breakwater along shoreline. I’ve seen a wash of massive rocks under an overpass, used to assist wastewater management and curb erosion.
The rocks always feel subsumed by their intended purpose, cut and shaped to sizes that fit what they are needed for. They’re of a kind, of a size. They feel out of place. They have a sort of beauty collected in a group, especially covered in lake ice on the shoreline. Yet so, so, so different than what I’ve seen in rural areas. They feel captured, wrested from where they lay and used for purpose but not appreciated for what they are or what they represent.
Or, perhaps I just need to spend more time with them.
What a beautiful and thoughtful reflection. There’s so much here. The utility of rock in the city as a metaphor for so many other things, even people. Also, the wildness and beauty of rock in it’s natural place (exemplified in your photographs) versus tamed rock that is “out of place.” I love that you felt privileged to be with that ancient rock. I feel the same way about the rocks at the base of the Niagara gorge. They’re like a wise elder.
Jan 10, 2022·edited Jan 10, 2022Liked by Kim Manley Ort
Growing up in rural IN, there was not much to do, so I collected rocks next to our home. This was not really so exciting, just something to pass the time. I wish it had been a deeper experience, more learning about them and all the natural world. I wish that with a lot of things growing up,, nothing really excited me., no real connections or strong feelings. Now rocks speak to me of strength, stillness, uniqueness, and inner and outer beauty.
Jan 10, 2022·edited Jan 10, 2022Liked by Kim Manley Ort
1) I signed up for Lincoln Marsh Newsletter, which is 150 acres outside my backdoor. 2) I printed out a map of LM, 3) located an artist, Joel Sheesley, for Lincoln Marsh. "Landscape the Knowable Mystery" was a year long painting project with an exhibit at Wheaton College in 2015. 4) I located his website with the fifty paintings 5) I signed up to photograph a Burning at Morton Arboretum, though it was already taken. I am a bit relieved. I thought it would be a fun learning adventure. 6) Purchased a Mindfulness Journal, Breath Creativity 7) Bought some colorful gel pens for my new Journal to inspire me.
THANKS KIM, I did not expect to really get this involved. I will see what happens, what works out or not. I always told my kids, The more your learn about something the more interesting it becomes, and the more curious you become. It is icy and extremely cold here now. Presently, I am using my imagination to see my place. I have actually seen it many times before. Thanks so much for your inspiring weekly Emails, and all the wonderful resources!!
Kim, I got accepted for the burn team at Morton Arboretum, that surprised me. I was one of the first to sign up. That is because of this class, I signed up and will be learning more about burnings. They do them in Lincoln Marsh next to me, so will be great to learn more! Thank YOU for your encouragement to engage and do something for our community!!
I just made an interesting connection between past and present. We live in a wine producing area and I do enjoy a glass or two regularly. The soils in our area are perfect for producing tender fruits, including grapes. A local wine publication says that the high concentration of limestone nutrients in our soil is perfect for making fine wine. The limestone comes from an ancient seabed exposed to over one million years of glacial activity. That soil (or terroir) results in the quality of the wines we drink today, a sensual experience of place, for sure.
Kim, You might have missed my message below about problems uploading a video to Instagram, not knowing where and how to attach #seeingyour place2022 to the video or photo. I tried 3 times with the video, and did not upload to the website. How do I do it please? I do not know where the video went, but not to our group. Thank you very much!!
Sharana, I see several videos in your IG feed. You have to add the hashtag #seeingyourplace2022 in the description part of the post. See my latest post as an example. Then when you click on that hashtag, or search for it, you will see all the posts. This is where it will take you - https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/seeingyourplace2022/
THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! I forwarded you a copy of the letter about acceptance on the Burn Team with Morton Arboretum. This will be an experience for me, look forward to helping out photographing the people and burning. I get to wear a special suit.
Kim, I uploaded a video on rocks to Instagram, but did not know where and how to attach #seeingyour place2022 to get it into the group. I have never posted on Instagram before. Also, I posted it 3 times somewhere, is there anyway to delete what I posted?
I picked the coldest week to be sitting on a rock but managed to do it today, although not in “my place.” I’m visiting with a friend on a lake up north. I chose a large rock on the shoreline, with shades of gold and grey, it’s sides covered in snow. The 15 minutes went by way faster than I thought as I sat and felt the cold, hardness of the rock surface. I wondered about how long that rock had been there and how it just sat there, experiencing all kinds of weather and water and animals and people. My sitting was a way of providing some warmth on the chilly day. I felt the rough, gritty surface and some of it came apart in my hands. Yet, it will be there for many years more I’m sure. I observed people ice fishing on the lake and it was very calm and quiet, a slight breeze coming from the south.
Your post reminds me of Anne Dillard’s Teaching a Stimr to Talk. Looking forward to the Hum of Silence.
Sounds interesting, will have to locate this.
Stone
Oh yes. I should read that.
I’ve spent much of this week thinking of rock as I wandered this week. I’m mostly in Toronto’s downtown core, where rock tends to be used with purpose, rather than, well, waiting for me to ponder it/them. And this week I feel like I’m stumbling across rock.
I became aware of the voice of rock last year, when I spent time along the shorelines of Bruce Peninsula and Lake Superior. Those rocks felt immutable, even when they stood, seeming to withstand the force of water in strong flowing rivers, or resting where the’ve been deposited by glaciers.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CWjjdy6gufl/
They had striking colours from when different minerals fused together, giving me a sense of ‘deep time,’ (I love that phrase. I want to lie on or even soak in that phrase). Black volcanic rock that almost smells of age.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CWqIrBorjH-/
I felt a privilege being near them.
But. Here. Where I am. I’ve seen rock used in architecture, whether it’s smooth granite used in financial district buildings, the formidable chipped rocks used in the architecture of Old City Hall, even houses whose outer walls are built with large rocks and stone.
What I see, or grasp, is utility. I’ve seen rock placed as breakwater along shoreline. I’ve seen a wash of massive rocks under an overpass, used to assist wastewater management and curb erosion.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CYt3e3TOAgN/
The rocks always feel subsumed by their intended purpose, cut and shaped to sizes that fit what they are needed for. They’re of a kind, of a size. They feel out of place. They have a sort of beauty collected in a group, especially covered in lake ice on the shoreline. Yet so, so, so different than what I’ve seen in rural areas. They feel captured, wrested from where they lay and used for purpose but not appreciated for what they are or what they represent.
Or, perhaps I just need to spend more time with them.
What a beautiful and thoughtful reflection. There’s so much here. The utility of rock in the city as a metaphor for so many other things, even people. Also, the wildness and beauty of rock in it’s natural place (exemplified in your photographs) versus tamed rock that is “out of place.” I love that you felt privileged to be with that ancient rock. I feel the same way about the rocks at the base of the Niagara gorge. They’re like a wise elder.
Growing up in rural IN, there was not much to do, so I collected rocks next to our home. This was not really so exciting, just something to pass the time. I wish it had been a deeper experience, more learning about them and all the natural world. I wish that with a lot of things growing up,, nothing really excited me., no real connections or strong feelings. Now rocks speak to me of strength, stillness, uniqueness, and inner and outer beauty.
1) I signed up for Lincoln Marsh Newsletter, which is 150 acres outside my backdoor. 2) I printed out a map of LM, 3) located an artist, Joel Sheesley, for Lincoln Marsh. "Landscape the Knowable Mystery" was a year long painting project with an exhibit at Wheaton College in 2015. 4) I located his website with the fifty paintings 5) I signed up to photograph a Burning at Morton Arboretum, though it was already taken. I am a bit relieved. I thought it would be a fun learning adventure. 6) Purchased a Mindfulness Journal, Breath Creativity 7) Bought some colorful gel pens for my new Journal to inspire me.
That sounds wonderful, Sharana. I look forward to hearing about your experiences at the marsh.
THANKS KIM, I did not expect to really get this involved. I will see what happens, what works out or not. I always told my kids, The more your learn about something the more interesting it becomes, and the more curious you become. It is icy and extremely cold here now. Presently, I am using my imagination to see my place. I have actually seen it many times before. Thanks so much for your inspiring weekly Emails, and all the wonderful resources!!
Kim, I got accepted for the burn team at Morton Arboretum, that surprised me. I was one of the first to sign up. That is because of this class, I signed up and will be learning more about burnings. They do them in Lincoln Marsh next to me, so will be great to learn more! Thank YOU for your encouragement to engage and do something for our community!!
There are some wonderful reflections on IG about rock. Here’s one from Cathy - https://www.instagram.com/p/CYty-FHuk1G/?utm_medium=copy_link
I just made an interesting connection between past and present. We live in a wine producing area and I do enjoy a glass or two regularly. The soils in our area are perfect for producing tender fruits, including grapes. A local wine publication says that the high concentration of limestone nutrients in our soil is perfect for making fine wine. The limestone comes from an ancient seabed exposed to over one million years of glacial activity. That soil (or terroir) results in the quality of the wines we drink today, a sensual experience of place, for sure.
Kim, You might have missed my message below about problems uploading a video to Instagram, not knowing where and how to attach #seeingyour place2022 to the video or photo. I tried 3 times with the video, and did not upload to the website. How do I do it please? I do not know where the video went, but not to our group. Thank you very much!!
Sharana, I see several videos in your IG feed. You have to add the hashtag #seeingyourplace2022 in the description part of the post. See my latest post as an example. Then when you click on that hashtag, or search for it, you will see all the posts. This is where it will take you - https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/seeingyourplace2022/
Thanks, I finally understand!
I knew you’d get it. It’s a little different from other sites.
Thanks for not giving up!
THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! I forwarded you a copy of the letter about acceptance on the Burn Team with Morton Arboretum. This will be an experience for me, look forward to helping out photographing the people and burning. I get to wear a special suit.
Kim, I uploaded a video on rocks to Instagram, but did not know where and how to attach #seeingyour place2022 to get it into the group. I have never posted on Instagram before. Also, I posted it 3 times somewhere, is there anyway to delete what I posted?
I tried a fourth time to upload a video to the tag you gave us, I have no idea where it goes, but not in our group.
Answered above. You don’t upload to a group. You upload to your feed and add the hashtag in the description. Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.
Thanks!!