Got a bit stuck on this song today, playing it over and over as I pottered around tidying up the flat:
After doing the washing up, cleaning out the primordial soup from the veg drawer in the fridge, and doing some mending, it was time to tackle the messy desk again.
Among the strata I found the bag of exquisite sea glass I picked up from the beach at Seaham in August:
I found the collection of perfect white pebbles I harvested from Saddell Bay in September:
And going back two decades, I found the six small multi-coloured pieces of Rangitoto I claimed the last time I climbed it.
This made me dig out the photos of Auckland I took when I last visited in 2015. Man I miss that place:
I also unearthed the stone I picked up from the beach at Kaikoura in February 1999, right at the start of my first visit to New Zealand. That was such a happy time and I can still clearly remember the idle, sun-drenched morning where I made this stone's acquaintance:
It too started off as white, changing colour to creamy beige over the years as I turned it over and over in my pocket, eventually revealing its go-faster stripe.
It has to be said, I'm a bit of a sucker for picking up stones. I've invented a belief that if you take a bit of somewhere away with you that means you're contractually obliged (to the universe) to go back there some day.
This means places I have no wish to return to, the hands stay firmly in the pockets; places I love I'll always claim a pebble souvenir or three; and Seaham, well, I should probably move there.
Truth: the days I'm picking up stones are always the happiest days in the very best places.
Today's Photo: Life Should Never Be Small [Pieces of Rangi]
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