Bruce Zimmer- A New Found Object, A New Relationship

Found Object:

Beach Cobble

Along beack toward Eagle Bluff, Kanomi

I picked my way carefully along the rough cobble beach - but not carefully enough.  The brilliant blue of the bay, framed by the black rocky reefs on the horizon, diverted my attention.  My foot slipped on the loose cobbles and I fell heavily.  The surge of pain racing upward from my ankle, kept me sprawled face down on the stones till it eased. 

I reached out unthinkingly, grabbed a cobble, and squeezed it tightly.  My pain lessened, and I slowly relaxed my grip.  Twisting around and sitting up, I looked at the stone, turned it over slowly, and viewed it from all angles.   Pale grey, it seemed dull and uninteresting at first.  Then its subtle differences in colour, layering and texture became apparent.  I now saw beauty in this plain object.

I realised too that it had a rich history.  Its origins as primeval magma and the repeated metamorphosis it had undergone to become this small eroded remnant of rock, embraced the whole history of time.  Its form had evolved over countless ages, and its full story would unfold for ages to come. 

Such a plain and humble object.  It reminded me of how people can be.  Someone who at first appears unremarkable, can possess a richness of talent and experience underneath.   This stone also offered a metaphor for the continuing change of a person's lifetime.  A flurry of thoughts raced through my mind - more than I could readily process.

To clear the welter of thoughts filling my head, I hauled myself up to my feet and tested the strength of my ankle.  I took my first hesitant steps back along the beach, toward the cabin.  Progress was slow; every few steps a sharp twinge of pain forced me to halt.

I still held the cobble in my hand.  I tested its size, weight, feel and texture.  I paused and looked at it again.  A plain rock, but rich in history.  Geological cycles of change in structure and form; deposition, erosion, removal and re-deposition, metamorphosis and re-formation.   All to produce this remnant cobble.  In time, it would erode into grains of sand to be carried away and transformed into new rock - then break into fragments once more.   A new cobble would emerge one day.  Geological processes and cycles - but we seldom give a moment's thought to this.

 I continued to ponder the stone as metaphor.  How often did plain appearances hide richness we shouldn't overlook.   I continued slowly along the beach.  I had some distance to go before reaching our cabin; plenty of time to think further. 

Cycles of change and transformation; that's the essence of geology - and the essence of human lives. 

We encounter plain objects by accident - but they can hide a rich history few of us even think about.

The same is true for people.  We meet apparently plain people, see them as uninteresting, and pass them by.  We're too easily attracted to surface beauty; too easily distracted by what we see at first.  We overlook the richness that can lie hidden beneath.   

Yes, we all know this.  But how often do we discover, sometimes too late, that in relationships with others, we've fallen into this trap?  And certainly, I needed reminding.

This weekend had been the first in weeks that we had been together.  I had ignored her far too much, recently.   A quiet, gentle woman of pleasant appearance, she was no beauty.  Although shy and modest, she sparkled when a topic caught her interest.  We had met at a writing workshop a year ago.  She didn't hide her interest in me.  I was less attracted to her, but came to value her intelligent spirit.  Our mutual interest in writing and her willingness to share her thoughts, gave us common ground.  

Whilst not discouraging her, I had tried to maintain my distance.  A tentative relationship developed.  Sometimes it strengthened, but then would diminish; cycles of waxing and waning.   I had twice broken off, but both breaks proved short lived; cycles of renewal.   My new-found stone was now both metaphor and reminder.

I had agreed to her suggestion that we come to the island this weekend, and share some time together.  She had said it would be a good opportunity to work on our writing.  It had been two years since we had been to the island for that fateful workshop.  Now we were back.  But this morning I had felt the need to be alone and think my own thoughts.  My solo walk on the beach had resulted.

Still clutching the cobble, I reached the cabin, hobbled up the steps of the verandah and paused for breath.  I looked back toward the beach, laid the stone upon the railing, and turned toward the door. 

Suddenly, she opened the door and walked out to greet me, a smile lighting up her face.  I gave her an unexpected hug, then stood back and looked deeply into her eyes.  She looked straight back, and her smile broadened into a grin.  I felt she read my unspoken thoughts.  Lost for words, I simply smiled in return.  But I was sure she understood.  Gesturing toward the deck chairs, she beckoned me to sit.

 We were soon both seated, enjoying the coffee she had brewed.  We talked at length, enjoying this chance to strengthen our bond.  I recounted my misadventure and sprained ankle.  She inspected it and gave a careful appraisal.  She agreed it would mend without treatment, but told me to walk sparingly and with care.

 Throughout our conversation, I kept silent about the thoughts that had occupied my mind whilst walking back to the cabin.  I made no mention of the cobble I had found.  She had noticed it on the railing, but chose not to ask anything.  And this was fine with me.