The Stone.

A long time ago, my father and I were up on the North Coast Road in Trinidad and Tobago. We’d had a few drinks and were in that zone where we could go either way – either best friends, or worst enemies. He and I were fickle like that.

And we came across a stone protruding into the road. A hazard of sorts. It was daylight, and I thought that it was a black-silver shale, probably high in illite. On further inspection, it could be slate. There was nothing particularly appealing about the rock, but it was silver-ish, it was hard and didn’t flake. All of this probably would have bored my father to death; he hated that the books I read were what everyone else considers textbooks, and he was a big fan of novels. I love science because it requires depth and breadth of knowledge to decipher more and more.

It looked heavy.  It was about a foot and a half in diameter, and oddly shaped.

I made up my mind. I would find a use for it. No one else wanted it. It was clear it had fallen from the Northern Range during a mudslide, and that it was a hazard on the road to everyone.

“I want to take this rock home.”

My father laughed at me, then saw that I was serious.

He knew me for picking up a stone, however small, at places I visited and depositing them in the yard at the house, a house everyone claimed but I had grown up in. He never understood why I simply enjoyed looking at things that had been formed under pressure, with whatever was at hand, to create these structures. I saw something else.

“Fine”, he said a bit smugly. “If you can get it in the tray of the pickup by yourself, we’ll take it home.”

And so I did. Into the back of the L200. I figure it weighed about 170 lbs, but I never weighed it.

He shook his head. We drove home, and I picked it up and walked it to the other garage. He shook his head. I adjusted it in one of the front gardens, nodded at it and went off.

When you want something, no matter how fickle, you get it.

Later, after he died, I stuck it under the tree. I used other rocks I had picked up, and I made a nice little waterfall that I could watch when it rained (it’s the 2nd from top in the picture). The tree was much younger then, only a sapling. Now I can’t get my arms around it.

Continued Waterfall

Today I moved the rock again – driving it from that last house where I had grown up to the pond dug recently, to sit on in the shade. It’s finally on land I own.

In time, it will find itself under another tree.

4 thoughts on “The Stone.

  1. Wow, superb weblog structure! How long have you been blogging for? you made blogging glance easy. The whole glance of your site is magnificent, as neatly as the content!


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