Finally I finished this painting. It’s been in the works for a while – not because it takes long to paint, but because I had to walk away from it for a while because my energies were focused elsewhere. It was really nice to return to it and have it happen really easily. Like I was saying to my sister, painting rocks feels like a spiritual practice; it’s deeply calming and peaceful. I hope to do many more of these. As it is, it is only my second rock painting.
S
It’s been quite a while, folks, since I last posted something. I was away on a 4 day, 3 night hiking/camping trip with my husband, his sister and her husband ( who only made it the last day as he was recovering from an infection from cat scratches and bites- yikes!) and two other friends.
How to make succinct what was truly epic. I am still trying to readjust to a real bed, a shower and a stove top on-which one can finesse the temperature with high, medium or low and everything in between.
I think I have about a billion photos. One of the perks of being the photographer is that you “have to stop” to take pictures, making me look less like a wimp and more like an artist. But truly, I was compelled to take photos because everything was gorgeous.
We hiked up from headquarters to a mountain ridge, camped there the first night and then took two days hiking to the ocean, and the last day hiking back. We experienced micro climates: warm and dry on the ridge, cold and damp near the ocean. We experienced moments of ” I don’t think I’m going to make it” and moments of ” I am rocking this so very hard-core!”
My one issue was a bum knee that decided to start twinging on the very first day. Lots of weight from our packs and a few badly placed foot plants and I was thinking I’d have to call it quits. It’s amazing how quickly one can go from feeling really fit and in the zone, to decrepid and like an old hobbled granny needing a walker. On the ups I could just hoof it like a pro, on the downs I had to slow down and limp the thing. But on day two I was loaned a hiking stick which made all the difference. As the days wore on, the packs got a little lighter and my knee a little stronger. By the end I felt like I could have gone at least another day…if not for our absolute longing for a shower to feel clean again!
Dehydrated food was our main fare. I was entirely shocked by how yummy some of that stuff is. The only time is was not thrilling was when too much water was added making for a sloppy mess. I dunno, could be that we would have eaten anything given our exhaustion levels at the end of each day.
Our little beer can stove came in handy. My hubby loves it so much he ended up boiling water for everyone in the group more than once. It’s not as efficient as some store-bought stoves, but man does it get the job done in a jiffy!
Here’s me sitting it out while everyone else does the 1 mile hike down to the creek to filter some much needed water:
We needed to fill our water containers about twice a day. Luckily there was many a stream along our hiking route.
This is one of many wild irises growing everywhere. Mostly white and a few purple ones.
And there were even trilliums!
Not quite like the ones in Ontario, Canada where I grew up. The petals are much smaller, but still the signature three leaf, three petal plant.
Check out this watering hole where we rinsed off and got more potable water (upstream of where we cleaned ourselves, of course!). Freezing but glorious!
Banana slug love. Eeew. I live in fear of actually slipping on one of these guys. Ugh.
The falls on our second to last day. At times we felt like we were in the Jurassic period and that a pterodactyl or some such ancient beast would appear to eat us whole.
Amazing Red Woods.
Below is our incredible camp site on the last night. It was like a little faerie glen, surrounded by luscious trees like a protective wall with a little bit of sky peaking through the middle:
As if getting to the last camp site wasn’t enough, a few of us opted to hike the 1.4 miles to the ocean.
Voila!
I was pretty stoked. And do you know what’s by the ocean?
Rocks.
You can see in the above photo that I have already acquired one rock and that was within mere seconds of stepping onto the beach. I’m a pro.
And I am perhaps the only back packer who has ever hiked rocks back out with them. Yes folks, that is exactly what I did. Usually the goal is to consume weight over the course of days and end up with a lighter pack by the last day. Uh uh. Not me. I added rocks to my pack.
I couldn’t help it. It’s a compulsion.
My hubby watched me silently as my gaze wandered from the beautiful ocean waves and sky, to the rocks at my feet. He didn’t even say anything. Okay, maybe he may have uttered, “really?” But then he humoured me and left it at that.
People, I used utmost restraint. That beach was a gold mine of amazing rocks.
I could have stayed there for hours. But that would have been decidedly anti social.
So, I tore myself away after a measly half hour or so.
I got home with this loot:
What made this trip so satisfying was the feeling of achievement upon reaching camp after hours of hiking and getting to throw down that heavy-ass pack. Exhaustion makes eating and sleeping that much more appreciated. And perhaps, it can also explain this conversation between my husband and myself as we linked arms and each bent one knee behind us to stretch ours sore calves:
Hubby: “We’re like a two-legged horse”
Me: “…..”
Hubby: “…only with a lot of differences.”
At which time we cracked up and couldn’t stop laughing for about five minutes as we tried to figure out in what configuration a two-legged horse might remain mobile. This illustrates the state of our brains after a 4 hour hike.
All said and done. This roughing it thing was amazing. I am rearing’ to go again. Next time around, I will know how to pack more efficiently, will know what to bring and what not to bring… and I’ll definitely be leaving room for a few rocks too.
S
I love rocks. Always have. I come from a family of rock lovers. One of my most fond memories is rock picking somewhere in New Brunswick with my sister, mom and dad. I believe there were even signs at this one particular beach that said “no rock picking”. Somehow that seemed wrong. It’s not like we were going to take the whole beach full of rocks (though often times it feels like we’ve made a valiant attempt). As nervous as we were about breaking a law, we still couldn’t help ourselves, our jacket pockets were bulging. Pulling out of the parking lot, the car riding quite low to the ground, we felt like we’d done something illicit.
But a beach with such signage is rare, thank the gods. Rock picking is one of those free joys, it fills hours and hours, absorbs the mind and appeals to the aesthetic senses. Only you the rock picker know exactly what you are looking for, what the criteria for the perfect rock might be. Often it is dictated by the location, the type of rocks that have formed there. Some beaches are good for the round, smooth rock, others for the colours and textures. Some beaches have beach glass, or worn bricks. I love it all. My husband doesn’t get it. He has conceded to sit beside me for a little while, looking at rocks, but I far outlast him in terms of rock picking stamina. He also, strangely, does not feel compelled to take them home. He’s never said it but rather suggested through body language that he thinks I’m a bit touched-in- the-head, so to speak, when it comes to rocks.
Believe me, I felt vindicated when my family came to visit me for our wedding on the coast. This was the scene:
I know I am not alone!! When I’m with my clan, we know the business of rocks. I swear we stayed on our bellies for at least 2 hours straight if not more and had to tear ourselves away from that beach to go and “be social” and try not to be “antisocial rock picking maniacs”.
Luckily I have a decent camera, so now, instead of taking the entire beach home, I take pictures of ones that don’t quite make the cut but are still beautiful. The best ones come home with me.
And what do I do with those rocks, pray tell? They make beautiful arrangements in bowls, or around succulents. They have also managed to become the subject of paintings. There is an energy about rocks. I feel calm when I am looking at them and holding them in my hands. So, I decided to try to convey the feeling I get from rocks in a painted format:
This is the first painting of rocks I’ve done, and it was immensely satisfying.
Recently I got my hands on a piece of scrap bamboo board from my father-in-law’s wood shop. Here are the beginnings of my next rock painting:
What do you think? Loopy rock lover or a kindred spirit?
S
sharolyntownsend 