The Company of Stones

These stones were all within about fifty paces of each other on one small shore of Waiheke Island. It was a morning when high thin cloud diffused the light. The variegated crowd of stones seemed almost sentient: and I thought about my grandfather who'd sailed from New Zealand to Antarctic shores as a young geologist more than one hundred years ago, enthralled by the unfolding of earth sciences. His blue-eyed gaze seemed distant but never icy or aloof. There was a sense of deep time about him, and he looked at stones as if they were old friends with long cryptic memories.

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