Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Skipping Stones

Skipping stones is an inherently frivolous and boyish pastime. As a child, I remember the frustration of learning how to skip stones and the eventual excitement when I got a stone to skip three times. Regardless of where I go, skipping stones brings me to a familiar place. The challenge of finding the perfect rock and perfect stretch of beach and throwing the perfect toss consumes my attention and I forget where I am. I focus on how many skips I can get.

On Friday, my dad and I found the perfect stretch of beach on the Maine coast and skipped stones for an hour.

Good stones are an obvious necessity. This beach was littered with palm sized pieces of slate.

The weather was perfect; minimal wind interference and warm enough that you felt the rush of being outside without gloves for the first time this year.

The perfect toss.

After skipping stones for an hour, my dad grabbed a piece of grass and started chewing on it like Huck Finn. I guess being a boy has more to do with a state of mind or attitude than your age.

Here are some more links,
Skipping Stones with My Dad (Picasa),
Skipping Stones with my Dad (Vimeo),
Watching a Rock Skip (Vimeo).


Isaac Buie said...

Your Dad seems pretty cool, looks cool too!


i love his sweater. where's it from?

Foster Huntington said...

thats a rogues gallery sweater.

greenjeans said...

I could spend a whole day skipping rocks for the rest of my life...

Anonymous said...

You seem to find inspiration and meaningful experiences with such ease. Does this excitement come from being a transplant, or do you have New England in your soul some how?

Foster Huntington said...

A lot of my family is from new England originally. but in a lot of ways, Maine reminds me of the Pacific Northwest.