The Crying rocks

Deep in the woods of Charlestown, Rhode Island, is a whole other world, or so it seems. When traveling to the Crying Rocks, one travels down many back roads, that lead to a road made of dirt and rocks, then, when one is completely and totally turned around, there is still another ‘road’ to travel. This road, however, is not a road. It is a grass path, heavily impressed by tire tracks whose indentations are now harbors to flourishing plant-life, with dead trees looming overhead, and dead sticks littering the path underfoot. Away from all civilization it seems, the half-a-mile path to the Crying Rocks offers a very haunting experience. Even when visited on a cool sunny day, walking with no one else around gives one the willies. At the beginning of the path, the sounds of cars zooming past on the nearby highway can be heard, which offer some comfort in the form of a faint connection to the outside world. As the path continues, however, the sounds of human influence on the world fade away and are replaced by the sounds of birds, the wind sweeping through trees, and the rustling of leaves.

As the Rocks come into sight, one can feel the surrounding environment shifting. All senses seem to heighten, the wind in the trees creates an eerie ‘crying’ sound and the mysterious rocks come into view. They’re not directly on the path, they’re in the woods off to the left of the path, and once you see them you know immediately why H.P. Lovecraft would have loved them. The huge boulders, piled up on each other in places, partially covered by moss and other vegetation, are almost frightening. Some rocks have faces carved into them, faces that make the traveler consider: who else has been here before me? When the wind begins to blow in the trees overhead, on the otherwise silent path, it is extremely startling, adding to the spooky, Lovecraftian atmosphere of the location. This location could very easily be made into a horror setting for a Lovecraft-esque story. It offers a secluded, peaceful, yet also terrifying atmosphere, that Lovecraft would have easily been able to make into a haunting horror story.

Above are directions to the Crying Rocks. When the GPS says you have arrived, there is no parking lot. Instead, we parked on the side of the dirt road.