“Like stones skipping across the still water, the circles of our lives expand ever outward as our energy reaches out to those on the opposite shore.” – RL Turnbull
Walking along the edge of the Snake River in the heat of July, I picked a flat stone off the beach and skipped it out into the calmish water flowing by. The stone skipped maybe ten feet, then five, then three, then two, then one, then in quick succession with ever smaller circles it finally dove into the river. Ten, maybe fifteen skips before it sank with the ripples of each landing expanding across the surface of the river. The sky was blue with puffy white clouds; the river greenish. The sound of ski boats and laughter echoing against the canyon walls.
Eric, age six, picked up a rock and tossed it into the river. Plop. It sank. “Try it again”, I said. “Bring your arm down close to the water and flip the stone horizontal to the river.” I demonstrated. Skip, skip, skip, plop. Eric picked up another stone. I examined the stone to ensure it qualified as a genuine skipping stone. It was fairly flat with rounded edges. It looked like a good candidate. Eric drew his arm back and in a side-arm motion released the stone toward the river. It gently kissed the surface of the water and leapt again for another kiss before it sank. His brilliant success was met with much jumping, hooting and hollering. As the afternoon wore on, the number of rocks on the beach diminished and the river became shallower.
Like the circles created by skipped stones, the impact of our interactions with each other deftly and joyously expand ever outward as their waves of happiness touch those we love.
Husbandry 