Apart from Time

Eastern Sierra Nevada

Time moves easily on, but I seem to be slumped in the corner here. I have a desire to move forward and accomplish something; this is the image of me slowly hardening into the amber, caught by the golden sunlight, unaware of my demise. I am sure that a reader might find this image of my personal lithification depressing. Please don’t. I am not so outrageous in most of my life, but a little macabre imagery seems to tickle me right now. Acceptance is a gift of the spirit; it is the movement of life with recognition of its own impermanence. Sometimes it makes me sad, sometimes I look right at it and laugh out loud.

Geology has always been my stabilizing rock, so to speak. It has given me the gift of perspective. In memory, I sit on a summer warmed granite rock, in the California Sierra mountains. This is my favorite type of rock; clean, hard, light colored. It was late in the development of the hot, pressure induced, liquid batholith which it grew from; it had more time to grow those lovely large crystals. Slow cooling of the original melted rock allows larger crystals of grey quartz, and pink or white feldspar, to form in a matrix, these are cut through by dikes (imagine cracks filled with another colored material that forms a discrete and interesting line through the more uniform, larger mass, of rock). Dikes arrive from an even later melt in the batholith with even larger crystals, some with a matrix of small dark, interesting things of a different chemical composition. These huge rocks where I rest, are weathered to the size of cars, buses, and palaces; a world of their own has been smoothed to a polished shine, here and there, by tons of glacier grinding past for thousands of years. I place a hand on its surface and feel my small, and very time limited, nature. Perspective. Lovely.

9 thoughts on “Apart from Time

  1. Beautiful post. I love rocks. For many many years I had dreams of looking for home (still looking), and I’d be driving up and down switchbacks. The scenery I drove past to find home was always a vast array of rocks. And oddly, I knew that those rocks were the lifeforms in that landscape, the “trees” and “plants” of that place. I figured that my home planet must have had that landscape as looking out, it always felt so nurturing and cozy. Rocks are like that for me 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Katelon. Rocks are filled with the spirit of place for me, as are trees. Looking for home is my way of looking for the familiar in every landscape; I always find it, therefor home is never found but always present.
      Wishing you the joy of this season, this place, and the next and the next…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I understand what you are saying. I’ve never belonged on this dark timeline and have worked tirelessly lifetime after lifetime to end it and restore the original light design. I find a way to make “home” wherever I am, whether living in a community in my 1 person tent, or staying in someone else’s home or creating one of my own. But true “HOME” has eluded me. Once the light timeline is restored, I know I am create my true home base and have a settled place to come back to wherever I roam. I’m presently in place #71 in 9 years.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. This is so beautiful Kiora. Everything you write deeply resonates with me ❤️ you share in the language of the universal soul

    Loved this, captures my own reflections on mortality

    “Acceptance is a gift of the spirit; it is the movement of life with recognition of its own impermanence. Sometimes it makes me sad, sometimes I look right at it and laugh out loud.”

    And this was poetry

    “These huge rocks where I rest, are weathered to the size of cars, buses, and palaces; a world of their own has been smoothed to a polished shine, here and there, by tons of glacier grinding past for thousands of years. I place a hand on its surface and feel my small, and very time limited, nature. Perspective. Lovely.”

    Liked by 1 person

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