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Anyone who has ever taken a walk on a forest path or a rocky beach knows what it’s like to not be able to resist the urge to pick something up. Interestingly shaped sticks, driftwood or perfectly multi-colored leaves seem to jump into our hands on a trail. Shiny stones, the ones with unusual shapes and colors, just beg to be pocketed for admiring later and putting on our “pile.” Admit it, you all have one little heart shaped rock somewhere.
The signs might be up that say “Take only pictures, leave only footprints,” but we end up with the one little token in our pocket, convincing ourselves no one will miss it.
What is it about we humans that we feel we have to rearrange the forest? Dishevel the beach? Manipulate our landscape in unnatural ways? Often there is a unique identity of a place by the rock formations and the driftwood on piles. Once people start to restack or remove, it is unidentifiable by hikers who used those as a landmark.
Once rocks become a cairn, they may misrepresent a turn or landmark. I am guilty of all of the above. I can’t resist that one special stone. A beach bleached piece of driftwood calls my name. Colored leaves of every variety are in between pages of many books on my shelves, waiting for a project. Decoupage, and art projects of any kind might call for that very fern stem waiting in the wings to be repurposed.
The joke is on me. All of these items have a purpose, and it has nothing to do with human marauders. But I’m talking about small potatoes. I’m only addressing the Midwest kinds of collectibles we come across in our local woods and streams. The world looks quite different on a bigger scale.
When standing in the midst of the Yosemite National Park or Muir Woods, I can only be in awe of the giant redwoods gracing the Earth. My sticky fingers are crossed at my heart in reverence. When looking at upwards of 350 feet of ancient trees, there is no inclination to touch anything, unless I’m going to hug a tree, which I have been known to do. No removing or pocketing souvenirs from these majestic reminders of the depth and breadth of nature. At a circumference of 94 feet, there are a few that used to host cars as a drive through, and some left for tourists to walk under the remaining tunnel.
When water flowed into the Colorado River and carved out the Grand Canyon, it continued picking up speed and traveled through cracks and caverns until it smoothed out the sandstone forming the slot canyons. Once you’ve seen Antelope Canyon, in all its natural beauty, pocketing little pebbles seems plebian. The present formations are nothing short of masterpieces in stone art, as fluid and smooth as silk. The colors are beyond description.
Not any less impressive are the rock formations all over this country, the Hoodoos of Bryce Canyon National Park and the arches or Arches National Park being most notable. No one is going to mess with those stones. From Balanced Rock to Double O Arch to the spires, pinnacles, hoodoos, natural bridges and buttes throughout Utah, the stones are breathtaking.
Sticks and stones are fun, and I will continue to appreciate the rocky shores of the Midwest. The state parks and all their splendor will be my stomping grounds — I mean gentle footprint grounds. And, I might continue to gather a souvenir or two on occasion for my little collection at home. It’s a reminder of the natural beauty in every corner of the world. But once we move out of our local environments and into mountains and valleys, all that is taken away — as is our breath.
Stellpflug, of Beaver Dam, is an educator and trainer in communications: kaystellpflug@gmail.com.
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