A Childhood Memory: Rocks

this is a story of my childhood rock fascination.

Everyday as a child I would walk home from my bus stop which was about a quarter-mile away. Although, at the time it seemed much farther.  They say everything is farther, bigger, slower when you're just a kid.  So there I would be strolling along with my bouncy curls and my boucny spirit.  Usually, I would count how many steps it took to get home.  I was very curious to see just how many it would take.  My shifty eyes would scan the ground and I'd stop, I'd say probably every eight steps and pick up a rock that I thought was interesting. I would crouch down in my denim overalls that had one strap unbuttoned observing my newly claimed rocks.

Looking now through my special, handmade rock box, I mostly picked up white ones and occasionally pink ones.  And everyday when I finally made it home I would be very excited and would show my mother the rocks I collected for the day. She would pay close attention as I showed her them one by one. When I was finished I'd scurry up the steps headed straight for my rock box and them in. Each time I opened the box it told me, "I am his Highness' dog at kew." Then it would ask, "Pray tell me sir, whose dog are you?"

I even loved that rocks that where outside of my childhood home in the front yard. They where used for decoration I guess.  Rough, red rocks with hundreds of little holes in them. I don't care if you absolutely know what kind of rocks they are classified as. To me they were volcano rocks straight out of a volcano and dumped into my front yard.

Over time I collected geodes and quartz and many other kinds of rocks. If u pointed to one though and asked what kind of rock that was I'd have no idea. I'm too fascinated by their beauty to research just what kind they are.

 I sit here now, still with bouncy curls and a boucny spirit sifting through the sand and digging through the dirt with a turquoise stone necklace around my neck collecting my rocks.