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by T. Duren Jones
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Stones of Heart |
Some people collect seashells at the beach; I collect small rocks—but for a purpose. |
Several years ago I started a tradition of collecting little rock mementos on my trail hikes and bringing them home to my wife. Okay, I know what some of you are thinking: If everyone did this, soon there would be no mountains left to climb, no trails to traverse. I think there’s still enough out there. Some people collect seashells at the beach; I collect small rocks—but for a purpose.
For most of our married life, Diane and I have enjoyed hiking and trekking, especially when our kids were young. We’ve strolled miles of Southern California beaches, explored the tide pools, camped in the Yosemite Valley and in the desert, and adventured together across dozens of California, Colorado and Utah trails. Diane hiked over 350 miles of the 468-mile Colorado Trail with me, until she blew out her knee … probably because of the occasional 20-mile-plus sections. She encouraged me to continue, and I finished my last segment of this continuous trail from Denver to Durango last summer. But, sadly, without her. |
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Diane has supported and encouraged me to get outdoors, knowing that hiking meets my need for grand adventure, quiet reflection and a spiritual, soul-healing connection with God’s creation. I decided I would bring back a piece of each hike to her. I would take home a small stone, and describe the location of the find, as well as other details of the hike. |
For the past few years, Diane has stayed home many times while I continue to hike the wilderness, especially the longer trips. She’s done this partly for her knee’s sake (and it thanks her), but also because she gives in-home elder care to her parents. She’s supported and encouraged me to continue getting outdoors, knowing that hiking meets my need for grand adventure, quiet reflection and a spiritual, soul-healing connection with God’s creation. I’m grateful.
Still, I have felt bad taking hikes without her, knowing how she would have loved being out there as well. I wanted her to know I was thinking about her and wished she could have come with me. So I decided I would bring back a piece of each hike to her. I would take home a small stone, and describe the location of the find, as well as other details of the hike. These rock remembrances couldn’t be just any stone. No random, organic-shaped rock would work, no matter how interesting. It had to be a thoughtful choice. It had to be the one. It had to be the shape of a heart. This turned out to be an ambitious commitment. How many heart-shaped stones do you think you see on a trail hike? Well, few, as it turns out. And you really have to search for them! I seem to be able to find this heart shape in dry creek beds, washes, eroded areas or streams, somewhere where the elements have tumbled, chipped, cracked and worn larger rocks down to smaller versions of their original selves. These natural souvenirs cannot be too big (extra weight, limited backpack capacity) or too small (I’ve gotten home and can’t even find My Precious, hidden away somewhere special in my clothes or pack for safety). And, of course, it has to look somewhat like a heart. My special-shaped choices have pushed the definition of heart at times, requiring a good bit of imagination, which, fortunately, Diane has, or at least she’s been very kind. For a while, Diane would write in marking pen the date and location of the geological gift where she had been on my mind. After a point there were too many stones to keep up with. But each seemed special and appreciated by Diane, so eventually she gathered them up from dresser tops, side tables, kitchen counters and my hiking pants pockets, and put them all into a glass jar now displayed on a shelf in our bathroom. Perhaps one day when I can’t get out any more, when I’m too old to collect trail rocks, we’ll sit together on the couch and dump the touchstones of memories out of the jar. We’ll retell the stories of the years of hiking, but more than that, we’ll reaffirm our love for the outdoors, and for each other, glad that we’re still on this wilderness journey together. More adventures |
