Rolling Stones

Dear You,

In the river of Life are different kinds and sizes of rocks. Water rushes around the boulders, which remain in place over time. Smaller stones shift, but rarely and not very far. It's the pebbles that wash around and drift downstream that interest me.

Growing up in different towns in Ohio, I never felt much of an affinity to place. I attended three elementary schools and two junior highs before spending five years (!) in the town where I was graduated from high school . . . thence to leave and return only for the occasional school reunion. Without some research I could not list all my addresses. Even now, I'm comfortable in my "snowbird phase," living seasonally in the North and the South.

I'm always curious about those who were born, grew up, and remain in the same community. Such stability is foreign to me; sometimes I'm envious. Wouldn't it be interesting, I think, to live parallel lives, just to see how different would be my outlook. Well, the river wouldn't be the river without the variety of its stones.