Not Just a Rock

Not Just a Rock

At the edge of the glade where the bumbling brook flows, under the massive beech tree, you will find me resting. 

Yes, that’s what I do, sleep and rest and then sleep some more; according to chatter-mouth Ms. Brook. 

‘How about some rolling Mr. Rock,’ she would tease and I would laugh. Of course, it’s easy for her to say that, for she is forever gurgling and giggling away to distant lands. I can only return her compliment in winters. When Lord Winter lays his siege, everything comes to a standstill, even the rebellious Ms. Brook is shackled in the icy manacles. We wait for Lady Spring to come and defeat this cold monster and vanquish him to the ends of the earth. 

The only time I have ever known Ms. Brook to express a desire to slow down is when she comes. Oh! That is one time, when it seems the whole glade comes alive and strains to catch a glimpse of her or catch a few of her words as the wind carries them away. 

Emily, she is called. She comes often, with her mother, during spring and summer. Rarely in rains and never in winter. 

‘It’s almost spring, the poppies are just about ready to blush. I cannot wait to see her,’ I say excitedly.

‘Even though she colors you up as animals,’ laughs Ms. Brook, ‘Turtle, chicken and my personal favorite Barney.’

I make a face. 

But what Ms. Brook will never know is that while Emily colors me silly with her chalks, I can feel her. The warmth of her cushy palm as she leans on me. The softness of her tiny fingertips as they rub away the chalk. The way she gently rests her soft cheek on me, that had I been capable of melting I would have, much to the merriment of Ms. Brook, who I am sure would have called me a blubber. In those moments, I am Emily’s partner, in her dreams and quests. I feel alive… 

As she grew so did her imagination. Four winters ago, I was her coloring board. Then I graduated to be her confidante as many a secrets she babbled to me. And, many an adventures she did plan in her gibberish. 

Soon, the scarlet poppies bloom. The glade rustles to show-off her new dress.  

Finally, she comes.

‘Look how tall she has become!’ I exclaim and chortle, ‘I wonder which animal I’ll be now?’

She looks like a yellow yarrow. A little beam of sunshine bursting forth the red orange poppy-clouds. She hops and skips towards me. I will my surface to be warm for her. As she draws closer, I notice, she now has a smattering of freckles. How adorable!   

She beams at me and hugs me. 

Now, I am Emily’s buddy. 

Otherwise, what am I?  

A rock, under the beech tree, near the bumbling brook at the edge of the glade. 

Picture credit: Wallpaper Safari


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Shweta Singh
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