took this photo years ago while in Maine. I have kept it along with a few other special images that show up whenever I go into my photo gallery. Mostly I transfer new photos out of the gallery into storage files, and see them again only when I go searching. So, why keep this particular image separate? The reason has defied any explanation that I could come up with over the years. I only know the rocks fascinate me, and I don’t want to go digging about in all the images of family, friends, artwork, snow storms, trips, gardens, and general photo palaver to find it again. Maybe I keep it there solely for the pleasure of seeing it whenever I load new images. 

But, as I scrolled past it today I was struck by how apt it is as a visual statement of our current situation. Our old world of blue skies and cheerful clouds is a mere blurry vision, long gone and far away, while we live amidst the barren treacherous rocks that ironically keep us safe.  However, the main reason I love this photo is for the amazing interest provided by the rocks themselves. They are not merely a frame for what we have lost, but provide a lesson in what it takes to survive. Their beauty is hard won, and not so obvious. Indeed, it is a powerful beauty. These rocks are hard for a reason. The wash of the sea is no mean enemy, and they have been at war … the two of them … from the beginning of time. So, we are wise to learn from their solemn grim presence, and embrace their example.

Beauty really is as beauty does. There is no Little Miss Muffet sitting here with us as we find a perch on the scree, and shale. Little Miss M. is not good with granite. All that fluff and blue yonder may become accessible again some time. But, like the buttress of rocks guarding dry land, we will have been changed by our circumstances and never the same again. But, that is not necessarily a bad thing. Miss M. has always struck me as a bit too twee for words. Imagine if you will, the grim reaper as the spider … and the tuffet is a bar stool. Time to change the script. 

3 Replies to “A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE”

  1. Was this taken at Aunt Louise’s camp on Long Island in Casco Bay, Maine? That images brings back lot’s of memories… takes me right there in an instant.

  2. I love the rugged Maine coast, so this is a familiar sight. The solid strength these boulders portray is comforting compared with the life-threatening power of the sea.

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