Veritable Quarry

[actual new river rock we're laying down in the front yard]

Not much more than a heap of rocks.

That’s one way you might have described a good portion of our property at one time. Big rocks, small rocks, rocks in buckets, rocks above other rocks deep in the ground, a multiplicity of rock varieties; we could have started ourselves a rock quarry, for goodness' sake. And if it wasn’t rocks, it was something related to the family, like large octagonal and rectangular stepping stones, red scalloped border bricks, pea-sized gravel, and pavers of numerous shapes and sizes. Nothing seemed to be laid out in any kind of sane fashion, either. In the process of overhauling our backyard and digging up dead rose bushes, we encountered layers and layers of heavy stepping stones – I’m talking 60- to 90-pounders – some buried on top of each other. Layers. I think I mentioned before, it was a viable rock graveyard, yet I have no doubt that there have been prettier stone cemeteries than ours.

The most unsightly of all of the rocks that this place bragged were the most obvious ones that sat out in front for some 30-odd years, four of those under our ownership. They were medium-sized white rocks with flecks of glitter. Maybe I’m conjuring up the glitter out of my personal vendetta against these hideous creatures, but I could swear I recall glitter. If there’s one thing that 30 years in the desert will evidence over time, it’s that white rock is probably the dumbest shade you can pick; within months it becomes smothered by topsoil drainage and morphs into a peevishly brown-gray hue that bears no resemblance to the pristine white of its forbearers. Unfortunately, not everyone has gotten the message on this tragedy; people are still laying white rock down in their front yards. It’s all I can do to refrain from knocking on their door and persuading them on the evils of white rock in this sandy, wind-swept biosphere we call home. Such a mistake, let me tell you.

And how do you remove all this unwanted rock? It’s no easy feat; that’s for sure. Some of it ended up in the hands of some Korean garage-salers who bought up most of the scalloped edging for the purpose of landscaping their church grounds. A good majority of the rest of it, with no other means of disposal but hauling it off to the dump and paying heavily in dump fees, lived with us for the past four years. Some of it sat for years in gathered piles while we worked around it. Some of it shacked up on the side of our house. In fact, those pavers are still there, a bunch of massive 18-by-24s; if anyone’s in need of huge stepping stones, feel free to come get them; you need not even ask. And I think we still have a couple planter-containers worth of smaller river rock. These used to be Abby’s favorite to play with, drag the rocks out, one by one, put them back in, one by one. These containers sit somewhere in the back of our garage at the moment, little memorials to the quarry we once should have started.

I have no idea what the original homeowners were thinking when they landscaped this place, really. But I have no doubt they were at least a distant cousin to Fred or Barney; they almost succeeded in converting our daughter into Pebbles. I’m thankful to say, if but for her sake alone, that most of the unwelcome squatters have been removed; they are no longer living on our property. Some of them found their way into the already-rock-filled ravine just north of us, late at night or early in the morning when no one was watching; they sprouted little rock feet and decided to camp elsewhere; that's our story, anyway. Some of it was removed when we hired some Mexican landscapers to haul it off to the dump. We were a bit mystified, however, when their dump-hauling didn’t take nearly as long as the minimum one-hour trip should’ve taken; I’m sure that rock has found its family in another nearby ravine; I'm sure its quite at home.

Ironically, however, in relandscaping our property, we’ve purchased a whole new heap of rocks. These will be of a more uniform variety, though, and will accentuate the property boundaries and grass perimeters in a much fresher way, at least we hope. They are rocks, I must admit, and fresher is not a word usually used to describe such animals, but we picked these, and one thing is for sure: They are NOT white.