Wayward Spirit of the Rock
We found her fossil rock, Mother and I, one late winter afternoon. On the verge of spring, we were looking at one of Mother's bigger flower gardens, talking about where she might put the dahlias this year, bending down occasionally to sift through the pebbles and rocks covering the pathways. Eventually, of course, the treasure hunt for pretty and unusual rocks among the pebbles takes over the conversation.
When I return home, I find myself thinking about the spirit in this fossil, wondering what he or she looks like if you're allowed to catch a glimpse. It's fascinating, this idea that every rock, every plant, all of it, they have their own elemental spirit within. An elemental akin to the faeries and pixies but not quite the same. . . and here is the sweet and delicate but wayward spirit who came out of the flame when I thought of this rock. Yes, she is wayward. No, the photo is not askew. I kept moving her while the epoxy that fastens her to the fossil dried. I would stand her up straight, she would lean. I would prop her up, once wedged between the kitchen wall and the handle of the coffee pot. . .she would lean.
Finally, I got her message. All is not as you think it should be. All is the way it should be. I was trying to set her in a stone, but what I was really doing was trying to follow what's set in stone-- keep the figure standing straight or laying down, but not leaning awkwardly. Ha! There is nothing awkward about her! She is standing as she wishes, a spirit hovering near her rock, a spirit flowing and moving with the waves of nature and time.