The Zen of Balanced Rocks

My sister lives on the West Coast, in a small town. The house she and her husband live in is not far from the beach, and every day she goes down to the water. To walk the dog. To get some exercise and fresh air. To meet up with friends. (To meet new ones, too, but you can’t exactly plan that.) And so on.

She often takes photos of the things she sees. Usually the dog. Friends. Her kids. Or beach art.

Beach art takes many forms. Sometimes people make something with the sand. Sometimes seaweed arranges itself artfully. Sometimes there’s a stack of rocks.

Sunset …

Sunset …

My sister has a whole collection of these photos. I didn’t realize that rock-balancing is a thing. (But then, I work too much.)

Simple, pyramidal.

Simple, pyramidal.

Stacking rocks, of course, has been around for centuries. A human-made pile of rocks is called a cairn; they have been used as landmarks or signs, trail markers, even as gravesites. Probably a lot as burial sites.

And as art.

This one looks like a bird perched on a square rock, don’t you think?

This one looks like a bird perched on a square rock, don’t you think?

It’s a creative outlet. People go down to the beach just to do this.

Seriously, I can’t even imagine how this one is balanced. But there it is.

Seriously, I can’t even imagine how this one is balanced. But there it is.

A nice mixture of large and small.

A nice mixture of large and small.

If I lived near a beach, I suspect I might try it too.

This one looks pretty tall!

This one looks pretty tall!

Sometimes my sister participates; sometimes she just photographs.

It’s a family affair. SIL and daughter on the left, husband and dog on the right.

It’s a family affair. SIL and daughter on the left, husband and dog on the right.

The tide, of course, washes most of them away.

Getting tricky. See the one on top?

Getting tricky. See the one on top?

Again, I can’t imagine how this is done.

Again, I can’t even imagine how this is done.

The tide won’t take this one down.

The tide won’t take this one down.

And yet, every day … another stack of rocks appears. Think about that.

Same rocks, different angle.

Same rocks, different angle.

New every day.

Silhouette.

Silhouette.

And then sometimes … there’s something different. My sister didn’t know what this was, but thought it was special. Perhaps it was someone’s swearing-in ceremony.

A swearing-in ceremony on the beach? Don’t know.

A swearing-in ceremony on the beach? Don’t know.

What do you do when you go to the beach?

NOTE: All photos taken by my sister, Jill.

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