Stones Speak

lava speaks of the rage

of the mountain’s birth

while the seamed granite

speaks of the silence

that followed

I love the Native American idea that stones speak, that they instruct us through their ancient intimacy with the earth. I spend a lot of time hunting for rocks, studying them, trying to listen to them. Rocks are great conversationalists. They're imposing without being condescending, informative without being overbearing, quietly witty without trying to force their charm on the listener.

They bear the marks of unimaginable heat and aeons of wind. Here in the San Luis Valley, which once held a large lake, many rocks also show the softly persistent wear of water. The stones speak of silence, patience and immutable resistance to the elements. Their seams and fissures are like mute mouths; their pock marks are like the scars on a well worn face.