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The clipping this text was read from
The clipping this text was read from

political debates got you down? Not to worry! No headlines would have recorded the event and no conversations at the Quicke Mart or the Co-Op would have pondered its implications; even the Internet hlogs would be silent. For you see, (or actually, you would not be able to see), we would all be gone as well.

But relax, pinch yourself, and check the hid mug in the mirror. All is well. The sun rises; the moon sets, the birds sing, and the tax (and other) bills will arrive on time. The giant rock had a soft landing in those woods some 35 miles east of ole Rapp’ County.

The rocks to which we are locally accustomed originated in a time when dinosaurs were, indeed, a local nuisance. Over the geological eras, erosion has diminished, shaped, and molded the stone. A few of the more mighty edifices, such as Old Rag, Stony Man, and Mary’s Rock are now iconic landmarks, monuments to both the Earth itself and to the many, many people who have walked these mountains before us. Wander about these parts long enough and one will also find myriad immense boulders as well as smaller rocks, the latter shaped by the hands of men, protruding from the floors of the valleys and woodlands, commemorations on one hand to the forces of nature and, on the other, to the human lives that touched this land. If we notice any of these rocky monuments it is likely to be with but curious, passing abandon. But each, in its own silent, unique, and perpetual fashion, records some event, often personal, but sometimes cata

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