Wednesday, October 24, 2012

throwing stones

I spent quiet week with family in Pretty Marsh, Maine.  No internet, just walks through the woods, books in front of the fire, and mornings by the shore, throwing rocks with Charlie.

Charlie finds a spot to sit and then points for me to sit beside him. We throw tiny pebbles and the sounds out of his mouth are equally pebbly - small and cute.  He starts reaching for larger rocks, big hunks that sit firm on the shore.  He grunts, pulling, and gestures for me to unearth a large chunk of granite, but we leave it.  They are perfect seats.

"Jessica, will you please put the camera down so we can throw some rocks already?"

"Plop!" we say as rocks sink into shallow waters.  The light makes lace of the water, smooth goldenrod seaweed and crusty barnacles illuminated.  

I skip shards of shale, and sing "Hop, hop, hop" or usually just "hop, hop" because they don't skip very far.  He echoes my sound effects, and adds his own commentary, "Oh wow!"

Mussel shells are sailboats, and we push them off into the salty drink.  "Row, row," he sings.  It is is favorite song this trip.  He begs for it desperately, and sometimes to the point of tears.

Sitting by the shore with this little guy, one of my favorite tiny (for now) humans, was just what I needed.  Kids are natural meditators, all senses engaged in the present moment.  The gentle laps of water, freckled stones, and squishy seaweed kept us where we were -- sitting very still, at the shore, throwing stones.

 I chase the light down the dock and see what my camera will capture.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning says that earth is crammed with heaven.

And here, in Pretty Marsh . . .

I agree.

For more information about our family vacation spot, visit and

1 comment:

  1. "Row row row your boat gently down the stream,
    merrily merrily merrily merrily,
    life is but a dream."

    Just sang that song yesterday to my babies:)
    simple song full of wisdom -like the (non)place-space you seam to be right now :)