This post is dedicated to Don who passed away Saturday night. Even though we never met, you became part of our lives and our hearts. You are a brother who has walked his thousand miles. Rest in peace, friend.
Roger and I headed out on Sunday to flip a rock. No, that's not quite true. We headed out to remember someone we knew by word and heart; to walk off the stress of making yet one more move; to see a small piece of this beautiful, swirling planet. If a rock presented itself, we were fully prepared to flip it for
International Rock-Flipping Day
First we saw this. No need to flip this rock. Look at that dragonfly. It fulfills all the promise that could have been hidden underneath.
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Then there was this. There is no way we could have lifted this rock. Besides, we would not have wanted to disturb this little beauty enjoying the sun on a late afternoon.
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And then there were these guys, four rather rambunctious river otters. They were putting a mighty big scare on Klopp Lake and coming up with fish much bigger than we ever imagined were there.
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They each took a turn coming up on to this rock and peeing. What a fine little territorial trick these river otter parents were teaching their babies. Didn't flip this rock, and probably wouldn't have even if we could.
So ended International Rock-Flipping Day. We saw rocks that we did not flip, but oh were thrilled by the life teeming on top.
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