Things I’ve Learned While Roaming the Earth

The following is an excerpt from one of my manuscripts called Mountainside, which is the writings and thoughts on life that I penned while out exploring the wilds of nature with a friend.  I was rereading it this weekend and wanted to share an excerpt.  This excerpt is from the middle of our trip, right after we had spent an hour on top of a boulder cliff looking out over a broad valley:

“We passed by something which we had not noticed before, a recessed room within the very boulder we still walked upon.  It was a cutout of sorts within the top of the rock itself, quite large and spacious.  The cutout was a rectangular shape and recessed down into the boulder about four feet.  Gazing at it further, we surmised that some ancient powerful tremor had cut the stone in two and slid the top third of the boulder a few feet to the right, forming a stone walkway which led to the ledge of the cliff we had just been on, and also the same force which had made this out-of-place recess in the stone we now peered at.  Examining it in this new light, it looked as if the boulder was really two boulders, one sitting slightly out of alignment and on top of the other.

As we entered the stone room, the toe of my boot made contact with an object I had not seen; it let out a complaint of high pitched sounds as it flew haphazardly across the stone floor.  I could not discern what it was I had unintentionally kicked.  I waited for the sound to stop and then searched the floor earnestly, sliding my hands across the smooth cold stone.  After a few moments, I managed to come upon its location.

There it sat, a tiny piece of glass, hiding in the corner, still wounded from my careless boot.  I picked it up and eyed it carefully.  Perfectly disguised it was, with its murky brown complexion.  It would have fit expertly into the natural world, if not for the sound it made which testified that it didn’t belong.  It was a stranger in this rectangular world of stone, a wayfarer that had ended its journey to rest within a comfortable home.  And though its color aptly camouflaged it in the pebbled ground, something in this place wouldn’t let the poor glass get away with its disguise.

I laid it down on the ground and struck it again, this time intentionally with the toe of my boot.  I watched it dance across the floor of stone.  Its weak and high pitched call announced that it was not native to this world of stone.  Material of human construction has not yet withstood the test of time as these ancient boulders have.  The stones in this place are not yet willing to let those of a weaker nature acquire a place within their private home.  I felt pity for the tiny piece of glass and its lack of confidence, surrounded by such mighty stone.

I looked down for one of the small rocks scattered sparsely about the stone floor.  I found one and struck it with my boot to compare its nature with that of the glass.  Instantly the little rock resonated a strong, deep tone, not afraid to show what it was made of, already having been tried and tested in the ancient world from whence it came.  It had no doubts about its character.  After a moment, it came to rest in the northeast corner next to the glass.  I looked at them lying side by side in the corner.  And I thought of the nature of man.  How many still lack confidence, having never been tested or tried in the world around them?  “Rejoice in trials and give thanks,” the Bible says, for that will show us what we are made of.  To know the limits of our character and resolve, that is what takes us from being glass to rock.”