Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Have you any idea what it is like to be me?

Overlooked, abused, taken for granted, climbed onto, sat on, and even, scratched into! Why you humans think it is perfectly okay to wield your penknives and write ridiculous nonsense on my beautiful body defies me! Only yesterday two of you climbed up next to me giggling like idiots and thought you should leave your mark on me. My sparkling surface emblazoned forever with Jed + Kas! Well at least their names were short! It hurts too. Every gouge shoots through me, loosening my skin, pieces of my body falling to the ground. I am ebbing away and nobody cares. I wish I could stand taller, crush the vandals, the defilers. But I cannot. I am gridlocked between so many more like me. The most upsetting thing is how you then use us to describe your worst feelings.

Hard-as-Rock, Stone-Cold, Stony-faced, Rock-faced, are just a few of them! And then there are the metaphors! ‘Slippery wet giants,’ ‘Sleeping bears, Seaweed covered boulders, Jagged dangerous barriers, the list goes on and on. Oh, and do not get me started on that film where the woman leaves her husband, goes to Greece, and sits on the beach and says, ‘We’re doing alright though, aren’t we rock?’ We have all heard those terrible rumours. It would never happen. We do not communicate with just anyone you know!

We are what we are, bearing witness through ancient times, steadfast, unyielding. Ancient Civilisations entombed within our bodies and our souls. If you crack us open, we bleed our secrets for everyone to see. Museums all over the world exhibit parts of us for people to stand and stare at, discuss and study.

Mary Anning was one of the first to discover fossils on our beach. She had been taking a walk with her brother when she found an ammonite, a spiral shaped fossil and decided to look for more. She later discovered an Ichthyosaur or fish-lizard skeleton embedded into one of us and then the first complete skeleton of a Plesiosaurus or sea-dragon. Mary became famous, for a woman that is, as it was only men that were taken seriously in the scientific world of the 1800’s. She even discovered the fossilised remains of the first Pterodactyl-us skeleton to be found outside Germany right here! We liked Mary, she was a gentle soul, kind and considerate, understanding how long we had protected the precious remains. She only ever took what she really had to, leaving as much of us still intact as she could. Unlike the hoards of fossil hungry hunters that came after her in the furore. They still send their specialists to search for fossils of interest to them.

We have protected the dead and provided shelter for the living. Small creatures hiding from larger ones that wish them harm. Many of us have provided shelter for humans and continue to do so. Our ragstone cousins are still harvested leaving huge hollow scars where they once majestically lived. Some of us hide precious stones and when just one is discovered, the rest of us are bludgeoned to death with axes and machines for greed and wealth.

I am not going to complain about one thing though; I do just happen to have the most amazing view. I have sat here bathed in sunlight for, well it seems like centuries, enjoying the warmth of the midday sunshine. The sea breeze gently blowing the displaced granules from my body. And when the sun goes down, the sunset throws' spectacular rays of red, orange, and yellow light across us. We become iridescent, sparkling like diamonds. The night brings us coolness and calm, the pale blue sky replaced with a blanket of inky black studded with millions of tiny twinkling lights both illuminating and captivating.

The sounds are different too. During the day sea birds soar high above us, ducking and diving, plunging into the water for fish. They call to each other like excited school children, screaming, and laughing at the same time. Occasionally a well aimed splat of whatever they ate earlier comes our way, but the sea spray gently washes it away from us.

In the heat of the day crowds of people come here to lie on the sand in the sun. They bring sun beds and towels, and food in little plastic boxes. They swim in the sea and then sink in the mud when the tide goes out. As they leave, we can hear them complaining that they have burnt their skin, lost something or other and mutter about the pebbles in their shoes. Then the dog walkers arrive. Dogs running and barking all over the place. Some try to scramble over us, but that is never a clever idea. We have lots of narrow crevices for skinny legs to get stuck in. Some people are thoughtful and pick up after themselves, but there are far too many that are unthinking and selfish. They leave their detritus on the beach for the sea to claim.

At night it is quiet. No human or animal presence to disturb us. We can relax and do what rocks like to do. Nothing! We are lulled to sleep by the melodic sounds of the waves. Crashing, retreating, crashing, retreating. Whooshing back and forth across the shingle, reassuring, and mesmerizing. An orchestra performing every night, just for us. No matter what happens during the day, this moonlit extravaganza is ours.

One day, many hundreds of years ago, a man came here and stood close by me. He was gazing out to sea. Mumbling under his breath as if he was looking for the words to describe what he was seeing. He watched the waves go out and come back in again and as he stood there, I distinctly remember him saying.

‘Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, so do our minutes hasten to their end.’

I have no idea who he was, but I think he may have become quite a good writer!’