The Stone Heart

One of my many eccentricities is a penchant for collecting heart -shaped stones on the various beaches I am fortunate enough to have nearby.

The other day I saw the most beautiful Turneresque stone – all oranges, reds and yellows – shaped like a heart on Tramore Beach. I felt myself stooping to pick it up but something in the very depths of my being refused.

It felt like it was wrong to move this beauty from its natural habitat. I left it there in all its magnificence and codded myself that I could maybe collect it on the way back. As if one stone among thousands and thousands would be findable, especially as the tide was coming in and my line of walking would be changed.

I also wondered if someone else would have picked it up in the meanwhile and put it in a special place where heart stones can settle lovingly.

I still don’t know what stopped me from collecting this particular stone as I have never known such a feeling before.

I wonder where it is now and if it will by any chance turn up again. I don’t think I could ever pick it up at this stage as it feels like it was meant to be free to remain by and in the soulful sea.

Author: socialbridge

I am a sociologist and writer from Ireland. I have worked as a social researcher for 30 years and have had a lifelong passion for writing. My main research interests relate to health care and sense of place.

23 thoughts on “The Stone Heart”

  1. With that leading sentence, are you saying you are eccentric?! You definitely sacrificed some pleasure for you, leaving it (stone) as a pleasure for someone else!πŸ˜πŸ€—

  2. Things happen for a reason and sometimes we never find out why…It’s too bad that you didn’t take a picture with your cell phone or camera. I always seem to forget to bring my camera and I have missed many a good shot…

  3. You painted a picture in my mind’s eye. My experience is expanded–Turneresque and codded myself. I love that I learn more than just your experience when I read your work. Sometimes, I have that feeling when I consider whether to cut a flower and bring it inside, or leave it on the hillside.

  4. You were very strong to resist the temptation to pick it up, especially considering that you collect them. I often think these strong unexplainable feelings are a guidance of some sort, or maybe a warning. Perhaps there was something lurking in the sand that could have bitten or stung you.

  5. Isn’t that odd? Sometimes we just ‘know’ something is the right thing to do, for no particular reason. 11 years ago I picked up a chestnut/conker in the Royal Square here, one of hundreds, and put it in my pocket. It’s still there, in the same pocket.

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