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Every Rock Has a Story

Author’s photo of a rocky hill in Tanzania
Author’s photo of a rocky hill in Tanzania

Six Word Photo Story Challenge: Freestyle

This is a line from a poem titled “Simplicity” by Emily Dickinson.

I’ve always loved that poem, because any kind of poetry about rocks has always fascinated me.

But what about the big stones? The massive rocks and boulders. Are they happy too?

I took this photo five years ago in Tanzania. It was such an arresting sight. I’d already been bedazzled by a forest of baobab trees earlier that day, and coming upon this pile of ancient rocks was almost magical.

There have been many poems written about the mystery and magic of rocks. As a kid, I used to collect stones, polish them and sometimes break them open with hammers.

Occasionally a smashed pebble revealed its secret crystal innards. It was like finding a pearl in an oyster.

If these Tanzanian rocks could talk what a story they would tell.

Would that story be a happy one? Or would it be filled with ancient terrors, wars, and blood lust? There’s no telling what these rocks witnessed or were part of.

We’ll never know but we can let our imaginations run free. Like the small happy rocks, they are the fulfillment of absolute decree — in casual
simplicity.

“Simplicity”

How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn’t care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.

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