I play with sticks and stones. Sitting on a beach, out in the woods, wherever sticks and stones reside, I pick them up and rearrange them. I don’t remember when I started doing this. Was it when we took the kids on camping trips? Was it in my childhood? Whenever I started, it has become a happy compulsion, especially when I am away from home and time is unbound from my usual routine.
Last year when we were up at Grand Marais I ran back and forth like an excited child gathering up stones that I found especially pleasing. I placed them thusly:
Sometimes my compositions are quite simple:
I built an amazing edifice out of sticks and stones in Grand Marais once but I couldn’t find a photo. If I find it, I’ll let you know. (Later: I FOUND IT! Or rather, hubby reminded what year that was and THEN I found it.)
I don’t often have a chance to go back later and see what has become of these momentary rearrangements in nature. The conceited part of my soul (which is vast, indeed) likes to think that when people come across them they ooh and ahh and instruct their children to leave them as is. “Look Mark, look Sally! Someone has created these artful arrangements in the wilderness/on the beach. Don’t touch them! Let’s preserve them for others to enjoy.” Yes, that’s the kind of silliness my mind conjures up in unguarded moments.
Here at the boys’ camp, I have discovered the reality of the thing. I made a simple little construction out of sticks on Sunday and it was rent asunder within hours. I made another one this morning which met with the same fate in less time.
I have decided to take this as a challenge. I don’t think I’ve been seen while constructing, and I have not seen who’s been doing the destructing. I shall continue in my efforts and see what happens. The game is afoot!
UPDATE! I was working on my next Work of Art (which is what any Sticks-and-Stones Artist would call it), when a gregarious boy came and sat next to me on the bench chatting me up. We talked about all manner of things: the candy he was eating, his attempts at fishing, where he hoped to go with his group for the cookout that evening, etc. (O Lord of Little Boys, thank you for sending this fellow over!) He didn’t appear to notice what I’d been doing, but a red-headed friend of his meandered over and saw it right away. “What’s that you’re making?” Red asked. “Cool!” said Gregarious Boy, “Can I add to it?”
“Sure!” I said, as GB put an acorn cap on the top of a stick. The SAS Artist approved.
“What if I kick it?” asked Red, “Would you be mad?” He had a look of mischief on his face that I recognized as a mother of five boys.
“Not at all!” was my cheerful reply, “I’ll just make another one.” Privately I was thinking So YOU’RE the one!
Red put his foot out as if to kick it, but changed his mind, apparently unwilling to do it right in front of me. In a moment, the call went out for kids to come to the waterfront to go fishing and off they went.
Oh my goodness, I love those boys! I wanted to give them a motherly hug, but wisdom restrained me. Last time I checked, my edifice still stands.
Perhaps interactions like that are what the Lord brought me here for…. Other than that, I’ve taken prayer walks, praying for the campers and the staff. And I’m doing a fair amount of reading, writing and painting. All in all, this is shaping up to be a lovely week.
Sticks and stones may break this post, but words will never be deleted. Or something like that.
Lynniebeemuseoday 