27 October 2012, New Providence
They look lonely here, strangers in a strange land, - huge
blocks, angular mountain chips, the largest twenty or thirty feet
in diameter, the chips that Nature has made in modeling her
landscapes, fashioning the forms of her mountains and valleys.
And with what tool were they quarried and carried?
~ John Muir, excerpt p. 63 My First Summer in the Sierra
Considering boulders abandonned in meadows
think of massive mountain chips striated and scored
Consider the curious agents of ice that moved tons
of granite then lowered them to their final repose
amid singing streams of champagne melt water
and nameless tributaries to unnamed creeks