Archive for December 10th, 2010

Holed rocks

I started to wonder about why people are so amazed and intrigued and attracted by stones with holes in them.  I knew vaguely that there were certain legends and stories associated with these natural phenomena.   My best friend found this rock on a gravel bar one afternoon when we were floating, and gave it to me.

I loved it immediately, it was so smooth.   And I noticed the crescent moon’s image pale on the face, next to the hole.

“It’s a friendship rock,” she told me.   I liked that idea.   Several months later, I found a holed rock on a different gravel bar and gave it to her.

“Oh!   A friendship rock!” she exclaimed, pleased.

There are other symbolisms associated with holed rocks.    They have a symbolic association with the womb, and birth.   They are used as protective amulets by several cultures, both inside the house and in stables and other shelters.   They are tied to keys to protect them.

Let’s see.   The larger versions are used as places to make bonds and seal promises; standing as witnesses.   In some places, people crawl through large holes in rocks which are said to cure rheumatism and lumbago and arthritic pains.   I suppose if you can crawl through a hole in a rock your arthritis probably isn’t as bad as you thought it was.

Another fascinating tradition has it that if you look through the hole in a rock it will allow you to see fairies, or make predictions by enhancing your prescience.

I use rocks as lamps, as door stops and bookends, as decor.

They are outside my house.

The wolf is always at the door.

Did you notice the shadow behind that big rock to the right of the door in the first picture of my entry?   No?   Check it out.

Because of the profusion of holes in it, this rock has traveled extensively with me, beginning with the long lugging of it up the shores of a fluctuating reservoir to the highway where the car was parked.  The lump of pink lava to the left side in that picture came from somewhere in the Mojave Desert.   It was a gift from my husband.

Now, a short photo essay on this rock and its holes.

That last I just held the camera behind the hole and let it decide what to focus on.   I think I can see a fairy in there.

I have holed rocks inside the house too.  They serve as decor, and I can blame no one but myself for the existence of these and the dusting chore they pose, for I hauled every single one of them home my own self.

I was pretty sure that my client was going to ring the doorbell as I was uploading these images.   But that’s because there’s an appointment on my book for 10:a.m. and  the clock in the corner of the computer said 9:56 a.m., not because of any great prescience on my part.

She did.   So I have to run.   Gotta go give a rub.

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