Rainbow Rocks

Rocks are all the rage at our house right now. This is the second time in one week that I’ve blogged about rocks, so noting that they are all the rage right now is something of an understatement.

But what could be more perfect than this: a quiet October afternoon, warm enough to be outside, but cool enough for a sweater. A vat of magic markers. And a whole garden path full of rocks just begging for a splash of color.

I colored rocks, too. I sat on the path with Noah and Rowan, and time slowed as we methodically filled in every crevice with magenta, sunflower and emerald. We were quiet. Concentrating. Noah pointed out a chickadee calling from the nearby elm tree. He chatted about our “pet” Jumpy Squirrel, how Jumpy had a wife now and a baby, as acorns dropped from the oak tree above our heads. Rowan was silent. A blessing in itself.

The boys thought about selling their colored rocks. But we decided it might be a tough idea to market. So Noah hopped on his bike and pedaled around the neighborhood to broadcast the deal: “Rocks for free! Colorful rocks for free! Come and get ‘em before they’re all gone!” Aside from the fact that Rowan had a major meltdown when I nixed the idea of door-to-door selling (the kid is a natural-born salesman), the afternoon unfurled slowly, gently.

In the end, the boys did earn a bit of money (thanks to the generosity of Miss Marge and Karna – thank God for kind-hearted neighbors), and they gave away a few for free.

And the rest of the rocks? They’re scattered around the house, of course. One sits on my bedside table, “I love you” penned on its uneven surface in scarlet. I expect most will make their way to the bottom of the washing machine.

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