19 October 2019

On Friday, Steve did a lovely post on a selection of shells and rocks he had been accumulating over the years. And as it has been dismally grey and rainy and with the after effects of the flu shot cursing through my body, I spent a good long time sifting through the bowl of stones that sits on one of the shelves downstairs.
Of course, I have forgotten most of the occasions and places that made us collect them but luckily, R knows a good bit about stones and with a bit of actual thinking and remembering, we have the stories behind this little lot.

Top row from left to right:
  • pumice, from the volcanic hills of the Eiffel mountains (we live near an area of volcanic activity, although the last eruption dates back before humans arrived, the many volcanic lakes show regular signs of activity)
  • sedimentary rock picked up at a beach in Holland
  • slate from the other side of the river, just a ferry ride away

Middle row from left to right:
  • gneiss from the Ticino, Swiss Alps
  • ammonite in Franconian limestone
  • red sandstone, also from Franconia - used for building since the Middle Ages

Bottom row from left to right:
  • pink granite from Merano, Italian Alps
  • wind and sand blasted pebble from the Atlantic coast in Connemara, Ireland
  • amber found on a beach of the Baltic Sea


  1. The fact that you and Steve can remember where your various stones came from amazes me. I must have a terrible memory.

  2. They're lovely and it's nice your husband can name and remember them. I have a lot of stones, no idea what they are or where they came from:)

  3. Story stones. They remind us where we've been. Thank you for sharing these; I feel some kind of deep joy when I look at them.

  4. I love seeing these stones and reading where you found them. A beautiful collection. I have long forgotten where we found most of the stones and shells we have.

  5. I'm so glad you were able to place and name them all. I feel the same joy that am does (above) when looking at them. Named and treasured.

  6. you do get around, all those other countries. I have to remember that traveling to another country over there is like traveling to a different state over here. unfortunately it's all the same, very little regional difference remain here.

  7. Sabine, it seems to me that R knows a good bit about a whole lot of things, which is lovely. And I must admit the wind and sand blasted pebble, which would perhaps be the least interesting overall, tugged at my heart. I have a strong affection for late John O'Donohue, poet, philosopher, author, and his love of the Connemara region which is reflected in much of his writing. Great post.

  8. I pick up stones from wherever I travel, too. Unfortunately, I'm not nearly as good as you are about remembering where each came from.