I recently found a rock on a friend's country property. Since I tend to collect too much stuff, I thought I'd leave the rock there, but when my friend suggested a blog post, I couldn't resist taking the rock with me. Here is the rock I found recently. It is heavy for its size. Any of you geologists out there know what it is? Is it hematite, maybe?
I selected a few other rocks that I have to show along with it.
I have one heavy rock that I use as a door stop. It is weathered to a brown, but I think the inside would be a dark bluish color were the rock fractured.
This rock piqued my interest because of the greenish color. I washed it off, but I think it is still stained with the red clay it came from. This one has a couple of flat planes. Maybe that is a clue in the identification.
Sometimes a rock will stir my imagination. Doesn't this little pebble look like a bird egg?
And what about 5 loaves and 2 fishes?
I keep the loaves and fishes in a pottery bowl that I made in the fifth or sixth grade.
It's just a reminder that miracles can happen.
Here is a bit of artwork from my girlhood. I found a discarded zinc lid in a trash dump and glued a few items to it that struck my fancy. One element is my initial carved into a bit of stone. We called it soapstone because it was soft enough to carve, but I have no idea if it is really soapstone. (It certainly doesn't look like the photographs of soapstone.) There are also 3 little pieces of limonite, which many kids in North Carolina have no doubt collected as (the probably now politically incorrect name) Indian money. Fascinating, isn't it, that some rocks are nearly perfectly round and some nearly perfectly square in their natural state.
Of course, we humans aren't content to leave things in their natural state, and here is an example of a cabochon of granite made into a bolo slide. Daddy gave me this when I was a teenager. (It was done by a community college lapidary student.)
I've never considered myself a rock collector, but I have accumulated a little assortment here.
In my mind I keep hearing the conversation between Barney Fife and Ernest T. Bass.
"What's in the bag, Ernest T.?"