One of my fondest memories is visiting the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco with my parents and brother. First stop inside the neoclassic Victorian building was at the open-air alligator pit where people tossed pennies on the sleeping giants for good luck. Surrounding the alligator swamp were glass-covered cabinets and drawers filled with reptiles, amphibians, and insects. Later, we sat in the planetarium stargazing and learning about the constellations and wonders of the Milky Way and space. We explored a great hall filled with dioramas of animals around the world and then the aquarium, a dark and cool undersea world. The entire place was a treasure house of God’s amazing creativity.
The two other displays fascinated me — a room with walls covered with mounted beetles in their colorful armor and the rock collections.
Insects are amazingly complex. I’ve caught my share of grasshoppers, crickets, and beetles (along with tadpoles and garden snakes). It’s not easy. They race to escape – and very often succeed. Rocks are easy to collect.
Every time I go to the beach, I look for “gems”, and they are always in abundance – ocean-tumbled, water-glossed, jewel-toned pebbles that beg to be tucked away in a pocket. Round stones look great as a garden border. My sister-in-law and I once talked our husbands into each toting two five-gallon buckets full of carefully picked beach rocks to the car so we could put them in our backyard gardens. Then both families moved. Rick’s sister’s clan moved east. We moved north and closer to the beach we had visited. Of course, the beach has changed. The glossy mountain of rocks had been ground down to pebbles and sand.
I still have a few rocks from beach walks over the years and keep them in a square tray beside my deck chair where I sit and spray them with a little water.
When we pause and look closely, we discover ordinary things have extraordinary beauty.