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    Late October, and the sea is alive, and roaring with white noise.  I saw a tree that released all its leaves in one second; they made their way to the shore and slowly landed on the ground.  We had every weather possible this Friday; snow, rain, rainbows, sun, and wind. I found myself mesmerized by it. I couldn't resist going out for a long walk along the sea.

  Sometimes I dream about stones.  Stones set in circles, covered in mist, stones under my feet as I walk through the narrow city gate.  Stones that carry a secret, a message to the modern world, from a land far forgotten in time.  As the world turns more fluid and changes in a flux, as our understanding of the world transforms and is in consant motion, stones hold a special place in my heart, as they are the only thing that doesn’t move — or moves very, very slowly.  Fossiles found in the old mud turned to stone, rocks and cliffs cathedral-like for the seatravellers sight; we can rely on the heavy material of stones. ”The Lord is my rock”; as I lay down to rest on the solid rock, I find peace and even if my mind whirls around the many events and memories of my turbulent summer, the rock carries me into slumber.