My Souvenir...

Dear Diary,

I thought myself very disciplined on Wednesday when we went to Herring Cove on Campobello.  I usually come home with a ton of rocks.  This time I just brought home two, and a small piece of drift wood.  I was looking for a metaphor that I saw in Brian Flynn's wonderful book, The Voices of Stones.  I though this combination of a pitted stone and the tiny smooth red stone fit his words.

I tried several small stones until I found this red one which slipped perfectly into the indentation. The three pieces sit on my breakfast table to remind me that even flawed and broken people can offer a sanctuary, a resting place, to others.  Herring Cove beach is my beach of metaphors and I always find something wonderful there.  Trish found an amazing stone with a perfect spiral marked on it.

Each stone on the beach is different and the color range is stunning...sort of like our world I thought.  When seen together they offer contrast and a kind of beauty that a beach of uniform stones that all looked alike would never do.  There is a metaphor in that as well.