[Contents of this column, may contain disturbing material for some viewers. Viewer Discretion is advised. Janet. And all other snake haters.]
One of my favorite things to do is to go Rock Hunting. Yes. It is. And yes. I do.
I know many of you wouldn’t take me for a hunter. But, when it comes to rocks, I am an avid hunter.
As defined, to “hunt” is to pursue and/or kill for sport or food. Or the second definition. To search determinedly for someone or something.
Hunting does not necessarily require a gun. In this case, it did not.
Which brings me to a little segue. The Second Amendment sure if the topic of discussion in this coming Presidential Election. I haven’t heard either the Republicans or Democrats say they want to remove this Amendment from the Constitution. I don’t think either side will take away people’s guns. But I do think the Democratic ticket may try to make it a more thorough screening process to buy one.
I could be getting it wrong. But that is what I am hearing, in some form or another, from both sides.
However. If you want to look at it literally, and I will… the Second Amendment is worded as such:
A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.
Guns are not even mentioned. They are an implication.
So here is my point. If someone wanted to ban guns entirely (which they DO NOT) BUT… if the DID… you would still have Second Amendment Rights. They could imply “arms” as “bows & arrows” or “slingshots” or “knives.” Or any number of things. Your militia would have to use pea shooters, perhaps. But you would still have “arms.”
Of course, this is all cotton candy wisps and moth wings. I am merely yammering to stir the air. Blowing in the wind.
Okay, that was a major bypass. Back to my Rock Hunting.
I do this in any number of places. But today, I went down to Seven Mile Creek. There is at least one good thing about having near-drought conditions. The creek beds are dry. This makes for great Rock Hunting and Gathering.
I get lost when I do this. I haul and lift and hoist those rocks out of the creek bed, and then load them onto the bed of our John Deere Gator. But I always like to take time out to find the perfect rock. It has been an ongoing life pursuit. I search, and sift, and look and listen. All in search of that one beautiful rock.
Me… and “The Rock Biter” from the Neverending Story. All day long.
I think when I write my autobiography, it will be called…. “The Dream of Better Rocks.” Or something. But. I love to get close to the ground, and look for the very, very good rock.
Anyway. It didn’t take long to find my maxing point in this heat (which I love). I think I hoisted rocks for about 90 minutes before I gave it a rest. This evening I added them to my Outdoor Sanctuary for Rocks. Formerly known as my Meditation Garden. I still have a long way to go with my little venture.
I spent a few hours with my Mom this morning. When I was getting ready to leave, I told here what I was planning on doing in the afternoon. To which, she replied… “Now why would anyone want to go out and pick up a bunch of rocks?”
It was a good question. I told her she’d have to buy the book.
“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson