Erratics

The land was flat. Spring lay buried beneath matted coarse grass the colour of buffalo hides. Yet, there they were, exalted in their alien shapes. Two immense boulders set on this prairie landscape. Together in oddness. Starkly rough and beautiful. Steam had suddenly poured from beneath the hood of her car, and she had pulled over on the highway's shoulder. She knew it was the radiator. Too hot to handle and nothing in sight to suggest water. She began to walk towards the strange rocks. There was a sign on a wooden post. 'Erratics'. The name given to rocks pushed by ancient glaciers, and left in isolation when the ice melted. Erratics. That was how she felt; pushed against her will on an unknown path. Left to fend for herself, surrounded by an emptiness. A glacial heart frozen by grief. She wanted to touch the surface of the boulders. They towered above her casting lewd shadows. Yet, she felt some hum of safety that trembled through her bones. She lay her cheek against the generous granite's coolness. Her tears ran into its crevice. She watched the tiny rivulet leave a wet track of gratefulness.

The copyright of this post belongs to Claudia Anne:  Calgary   May 11/14