Rocks

Walking into our school science office never ceases to bring a smile to my heart. Not only do we have the traditional office accoutrements such as a copy machine, paper cutter (circa 1956), pens, pencils and coffee maker, we have lab supplies filling all the nooks and crannies of our given space. It is not unusual to see a beaker of water burbling away on a hot plate while teachers nearby bang on Ziploc bags filled with butterscotch chips for an earth science lesson. Trays are at the ready with scales, coffee filters and gummy bears for a measurement lab. Carts are loaded with calculators and physical science equipment. The refrigerator is host to petri dishes filled with radish seeds awaiting observation of the effects of temperature on living things. Dry ice casts eerie vapors from a cooler on the counter.

And we have rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. Brightly colored margarine tubs feature the rock collections of all shapes and kinds. Glossy smooth obsidian shows off its volcanic past with intense ebon hues. Pretty pink and white quartzite belie their strength as major players in the construction world. Limestone chunks intrigue with a chalky residue. Gneiss shows off sporty bands of feldspar and mica. And, no rock collection is complete without a tub marked miscellaneous. Some rocks just defy typecasting.

Perhaps more interesting than the rocks themselves is the reaction of teachers, science or otherwise, as they walk past the rock containers. An irresistible urge compels most to stop and touch the rocks. Many jettison back to their youth for a moment and recount fond memories of collecting rocks. I, too, remember little buckets filled with rocks collected on our vacation trips. My mother finally had to limit our quota. Our Dodge sedan could only hold so many kids and buckets of bulky rocks. Prioritizing became an early skill as I selected my favorite pieces of mica, rose quartz and a chunk of pyrite I was sure held flecks of true gold. A girl has to dream.

It has been said that kids are losing touch with nature. Flashy video games, YouTube shares, Snapchat drama and Smartphone apps sing a sweet song of entertainment. The things of nature struggle to compete. It is easier to focus on passive screens than to train the eye to watch the flight of a bird. Or squat down to observe a busy beetle. Or classify a tree with a field guide.

Maybe rocks are the answer. They are readily available. They are very tangible. They come in all shapes and sizes. They don't rot (unlike the mushroom collection of my youth. Sorry, mom.). They can be sorted, classified, painted, hidden, named and loved. Ramp it up a few notches with a junior rock polisher. Create jewelry or play hopscotch. All sorts of fun with the humble rock.

So, the next time you are out and about, look down, past the Smartphone and find a rock. If it fancies your curiosity, find out what kind it is or just enjoy it for what it is. Even the miscellaneous of this world never cease to amaze.

My husband's childhood rock kit. He also had a rock polisher. Spoiled baby.