Third Rock from the Sun

I grew up on a lake so for me there was always an ongoing search  for the perfect rock, It could be an agate or a skipping rock, or the urban legend Wish Rock. A Wish Rock has a white line that goes through/around it entirely.

I could never make a wish and throw them though

Often I would find rocks in the water, bring them into the house then discover that once they were dry or not being defracted by water, they weren't as beautiful as first thought.  If that isn't a metaphor for life, nothing is.  

The rocks I bring home are everywhere.  There is a grouping on my kitchen window sill, they are on my bookcases, at my office, in my truck.  I have found most of them and some of them have been gifts.

Right now, I go into my work office weekly.  Yesterday I was trying to remember what I needed to bring home when I spotted some of my rocks on my desk.  There's a pure white one from West Beach, there's a purple one that I picked up while visiting a friend, and a few others.  The problem with this whole rock thing is that sometimes I forget where I got them, just that I loved them.

Yesterday I picked up one of my most favorite rocks ever.  I chose it because it was a black rock that stood out from newly spread gravel.  It was flat on one side, the side that was showing.  I cleaned it up once I returned home, then left it on my desk.  It's home to be determined at a later date.

This morning I took a good look at it again.  It looks like a little planet.  

I think this one will stay on my desk here at home where I can see it all the time.  Not only is it a cool rock, I picked it up while feeling happy, a feeling that just doesn't come easy in these End Times.