There are lots of rocks where we live. Especially where we want to dig a hole. In fact, there are only about two or three places on this whole 600-plus acre place where you can dig a hole of any depth without hitting a rock. The rock above is fortunately not where we would want to dig, but it is the only blue-eyed rock we’ve discovered so far. We were lucky to run across it when it’s awake and the eye is open. It sees, it listens, but it doesn’t talk, at least not when we’re around.
Saturday, December 27
Blue-eyed rock
There are lots of rocks where we live. Especially where we want to dig a hole. In fact, there are only about two or three places on this whole 600-plus acre place where you can dig a hole of any depth without hitting a rock. The rock above is fortunately not where we would want to dig, but it is the only blue-eyed rock we’ve discovered so far. We were lucky to run across it when it’s awake and the eye is open. It sees, it listens, but it doesn’t talk, at least not when we’re around.
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2 comments:
This looks like a dog-rock to me. (It appears to have a serious skin problem.) Perhaps it is related to those far northern dogs who have white eyes. And the green fur--well, I don't know, that's quite unusual, even in Alaskan Huskies.
I'm pretty sure dog-rocks howl at the aurora borealis. Keep an ear cocked. I remember hearing coyotes (in the guise of small children) howling from rocks up in your area. Or it might have been the coyote rocks, for all I know. Hilary, you could probably confirm that since you were there at the time.
You're right Aunt Pat, it was the coyote rock howling. I was just lip synching.
Between this scary-looking new discovery and Plug Spring, I'll never go out in the dark alone again!
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