As I walked along the beach of Torquay, England on this very
cold winter day, I tried as hard as I could to avoid collecting
You see... this is a problem I developed on the beaches of Lendas,
Greece this past June.
When someone picked up my bag appropriately called, "the trunk"
by Eagle Creek ... and asked, "Whatta' ya' have stones in there?!"
I just couldn't say no with a straight face.
I collected literally, almost 6 kilos worth of stones in Lendas alone.
So by the time I made it to the beaches of England and Sweden
throughout the summer, I was just plain in trouble.
I managed to get the stones from Greece to England, the stones
from England to Austria and the stones in Sweden back to
England...never mind the stones I harvested in Austria.
Those thank god, were able to live in the Austrian flat without needing
to be lugged around Europe.
Even so, I promised myself... n-o m-o-r-e s-t-o-n-e-s...
But there I was. Completely mesmerized by the red cliffs of
Torquay, the turquoise waters, lush green forest and cold chill
in the air.
The first moment I looked down to the beautiful array of colors
and shapes, I knew ... that was the end of me and my empty
Then as I pulled each one from the ground, looking for just the
right stripe or curve, color combination or shape, I realized that
I finally understood the phenonmenom of stone collectors.
You know the ones.
The friends and family with piles about their house, in planters
in the garden, leading the way to the front door. And the very
worst kind of collector, the one who layers then on the dashboard
of their car.
But I can't say the worse kind of collector anymore because I am
right smack dab proudly standing beside them.
In fact, I think I now take the prize for worst kind of collector.
Or more like, craziest.
For a girl already lugging too many bags around Europe and
getting charged for too much luggage way too often, I have literally
added on an additional at least 5 kilos each trip...all in the name of rock
But in my sad little defense, I have to say....
Although my life as a tumbleweed drastically changed my thrift
store junkie, save every little thing in case I need it some day way
of life, the newly acquired stone habit has reminded me...
in a small way, that although I don't have the same physical space
as I used to...as in, a real home to place them...
I can still find a place somewhere in the world that reminds me who
Today it is the stones in my pocket that have given this weary hobo
a temporary home...and reminded me...
I am still the cookie-baking, garden-digging collector I was before
the wind and road called to me.