Often our monthly Ask A Wench post is a reader question that all the Wenches answer in our different ways. But today’s compilation is rooted in Christmas pictures. Anne sent us a photo of some of her holiday decorations, another wench noticed the beautiful gemstone bonsai tree and other polished stones—and we were off the races! Or perhaps the quarries. <G>
It turns out that all of the Wenches love stones and minerals, and we love taking about them. We could have easily generated a multi-part series on Stones We Love, but I restrained myself. We'll start our rock stories with Anne and her bonsai tree:
I love stones, too, and compulsively bring them home from my travels because they're pretty or I like their shape or they evoke a place I loved in my memory. I have round white stones from a beach in Brittany, rugged mountain-shaped rocks from Montana, smooth wave-washed pieces of colored tiles from the south of France, shards of slate from a sliding mountain of slate in North Wales — and much more.
I also have a couple of friends who are fossickers —— they dig for gold and gemstones as a hobby, albeit a fairly serious one. They go bush (to remote locations) several times a year and camp and fossick and dig. They also dig for opals and I've bought a few beautiful stones from them. I also have these stones (in the picture) that they were going to toss into the garden. They're not valuable, but they're beautiful stones with tiny gleams and glitters of blue, aqua and red opal in them (more visible in the sun than in this photo) and I love them, not just because they're beautiful, but because my friends found them and polished them and gave them to me.
Stones, gemstones and rocks can bring very good energy — light and color and beauty — to the home and for writers. I've collected some lovely rocks and stones over the years that I've stashed around the house and in my office, where they catch the light and help to inspire (and distract!) me while I'm working. I find them very soothing and fascinating.
And because most of them were gifts from friends, they have additional meaning and personal connections. My son's girlfriend is an amateur gemologist and rock collector, and I've learned a lot from watching her identify, categorize and rank the stones she collects; she also displays them at gem shows. Several of her discoveries in the wilds of Virginia and Maryland have found their way onto our bookshelves and into our garden, and into my office, where I like to think they're happy clustered on windowsills or on the desk.
Among the stones in my office are several amethyst geodes of various sizes, including one that's a gorgeous purple cavern big enough for a fairy or a dragon figure (and they've been in there, believe me!); a beautiful polished phantom crystal with curls and whorls and tiny scenarios within the stone; and a big fist-sized chunk of raw lapis lazuli that a friend brought from Brazil. Lapis has very good energy for writers, so I keep it near my computer. That saturated blue is chalky in its raw form, veined with other stone material, and just gorgeous. Medieval artists coveted lapis lazuli, and carefully chipped and ground the stones into a powder to mix with egg (and later oil) to create the heavenly blue that was considered rare and costly in the medieval era.
I also have a crystal point a friend brought from Madagascar — a split terminus quartz crystal about ten inches long, heavy, full of depth and beautiful cloud like veining. You can just feel the powerful energy in it. I clear my crystals now and then with running water and sunlight, as crystals can pick up dust and get a bit dull — and they can absorb energies around them just like little radio transmitters; it's good to keep those energies clear so the stones won't refract the stale energies right back at ya. So they say!
Every one of my rocks has a story. Some are presents — that carved bird perched on top of the pile so protectively is a present from a friend who carves rock. Some of my rocks I've found. The jasper — that's the irregular big brown-red chunk on the right — is from the Southwest of the United States. The carnelian, a bit above it, is the same color, but translucent. That's from Iran. It rated a special professional polishing.
To the right, the dirty-looking, complicated quartz crystal is what they call a 'desert diamond'. You find those out in the middle of the sands. This one is from the Nejd in Saudi Arabia. You'll be all shook up from driving in the dark, off-road. There's, oh, just desolation all around
and some scrub brush and big stone cliffs a mile or two off, still black. It's dawn behind you because you're looking west. The sun comes up. You see a glint way off. That's your crystal. You go racing off to get there before it's lost again.
And there's that egg-shaped sort of pink rock in the center. That's from the north part of the coast of Maine, from the beach. There's a layer of granite that underlies the coast that's about pure pink. They made buildings of this 'Red Beach granite' or 'Pembroke granite' up and down the Northeast a hundred years ago.
The egg shaping comes from the washing of the sea. I picked it up when I was twelve or so and thought of the years it took and the accidents of time that made a neat hen's egg out of some boulder. So cool, thought I. And I still do.
I keep my rocks in a basket where the first sunlight hits them.
They just light up.
We collect stones on our Scottish holidays, usually round ones that have been washed down by the burn that runs past our holiday cottage. They sit in our garden at home so that we have a ittle bit of Scotland with us all the time. They make great paperweights if we actually get the chance to sit reading in the garden!
My most prized poseession, though, is a piece of chalk that was cut to restore Ashdown House. They opened up the original 17th century quarry to do this and my husband begged a piece from the restoration guys and had it engraved for me. Most people don't get it and wonder why I have a chunk of rock on my desk!
I also have some sarsen stones (mine are a bit smaller than the ones in the photo!) which are the local sandstone rocks washed into extraordinary shapes during the Ice Age. There are may legends around them. They are the stones that made Stonehenge and Avebury stone circle. The holes in them were made by the roots of palm trees
ROCKS!!! I love rocks! My friends give me such a bad time about my passion for rocks. I'm always finding pretty rocks in my driveway gravel, in the pasture, on day trips to various places like Mount St. Helen's (I have a lava rock from there), and many other rocks, geodes, ammonites, agates, crystals and petrified wood collected over the years. Below are some of my water washed stones from Prince Edward Island.
Our webmistress Sherrie Holmes has some amazing stones, too.
A former co-worker's mother was an artist who hiked the rugged Hell's Canyon trails along the Snake River that borders Oregon and Idaho. When she found out that the Hell's Canyon dam would flood a section of the canyon rich in historic pictographs, she made it her mission to preserve as many of them as she could for posterity. She did it in a unique way: first photographing them, then painting their exact replicas on rocks from the area. She donated her painted rocks to a local museum, which sold them to tourists. Her generosity helped keep that small museum afloat.
When my co-worker showed me samples of her mother's rocks, I begged her to sell them to me. Despite the fact the museum was the only outlet for those rocks, her mother made an exception and allowed me to buy several pieces, after which she turned the money over to the museum.
This one us irregularly shaped, and each of the four sides has a different pictograph from Hell's Canyon.
Mary Jo again: I have my share of amethyst geodes and pale blue fluorites and pretty pebbles and minerals (of which I don't always remember the names!) The only one I'll show here is actually a piece made by my sister, Estill Putney, who is a professional stone carver. It was created as a memorial for the Virginia Tech shooting, which took place in her home town. The orange flower is made from a rare shade of natural alabaster. The carving presides over my dining room.
Mary Jo, adding more of Anne's opal boulders