A rock in my pocket


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It may seem fictitious; however, it is not the fact that I have kept some rocks for some years as treasures. They are in a glass knob on a shelf on my terrace, and only one is out of it because of its size. Nobody except me knows why they are there, and now I have decided to reveal this secret.

It's not that I collect stones. However, writing, I realised that maybe I do. It has been a collection of sorts but of memories.

Why would I collect stones then, if, after that, I also kept photographs and images that are still not erased from my mind?

That is a question I asked myself before deciding to tell you why I kept these treasures, whose simplicity is such that they go unnoticed by those who once came or still come to look at them.

The easy explanation is that either I was imprinted by the place of origin, or I carried the fond memories subconsciously.

A little bit complex answer is that stones are part of the path and stumbling over them is even good. I talked about that in this post.

So that's where it all started.


Seibabo River. 2015.

I had in my adolescence some adventures like the one I will briefly tell you about. They happened during school and camping trips. But here, I felt something very, very special. It was during a trip to the Escambray, in the Guamuaya massif, I say, between Villa Clara and Sancti Spíritus.

I went there with a group of people interested in photography, some of whom were professional photographers, and even children who took introductory workshops in this art.

The idea was very nice. It included sharing and a competition you can imagine what it was about.

We would stay at a camping base for a whole weekend, and from there, every day, we would set off to some remote place on foot, enjoying the trails or the lack of them.

How many laughs and anecdotes, how much tiredness suddenly disappeared or was left to rest because what we saw was so powerful that the body was only willing to keep up the pace.


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I took a screenshot of a frame from the video on Youtube. Click here so you can see it.


That's where I think my path of treasuring rocks began. Then other smaller ones came into the container. It was as if they were asking me to take them with me. Maybe you think it's a poetic idea what I'm expressing. You can see it that way or it's part of some quirk of sticking to places and things.

Las Terrazas Community in Artemisa Province during a tour 🌞


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Oh, before I continued showing them, I remembered that I keep stones from a trip that took place many, many years before the one to Rio Seibabo. There are nine stones, which I keep in a small compartment in my wallet, from the Santuario de la Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre (Sanctuary of the Virgin of Charity del Cobre) in Santiago de Cuba.


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It was a meaningful trip that I remember fondly. First time I went there. I am not going to absolutize, but who has been to El Cobre has not taken with them a stone or a pile of them? They are beautiful and shine because of the presence of this metal.

You should know that in its spiritual meaning, copper is associated with femininity and love, beauty and artistic creativity.

If you scroll up and look at the first image, you will see that there are many other tiny stones from El Cobre there, which recently became new friends to the ones I already kept. If I remember correctly, when I went to Santiago de Cuba in the last days of 2023 it was the third time I visited that sanctuary.

I brought them because that was an unforgettable trip in many ways and one that made me grow.

Check this one out:


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It looks like a heart, doesn't it?

I found it on a beach where I got drunk with Tequila and Rum. Mixing is bad. 😂 Terrible, indeed.


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I make sure the occasion warrants it. I have to feel something meaningful. It's not bringing stones for the sake of it.


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So, every time I go to an unforgettable place, either alone or accompanied by someone special, without being noticed, I keep a small rock in my pocket.

And while we're at it... 😅 Let me show you the biggest stone I have inside my house. I don't know if this can be considered as such. Of course, this one doesn't fit in my pocket, and I inherited it from someone who emigrated to the United States definitively. I keep it because it took perhaps several thousand years to form what you see here, and it would be a crime to throw it away, just as it was a crime to take it out of the place it came from. A cave.


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It is really big, heavy and yes, it is a calcareous rock. Although I really don't know if it is a stalactite or a stalagmite. 🤔


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Original content by @nanixxx. All rights reserved ©, 2024.

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