Having been asked how he and Rhonda (the roundish stone ) had met, the Squire, (the squarish stone) launched off on an epic tale about their romantic past.
"Many many years back, Rhonda left the glacier and eventually ended up living on the west coast of what was not yet England, not far from what was to become town of St Bees. She spent all her days on the beach sunning herself, listening to rock and roll ( the sounds of tumbling stones and smaller pebbles being rocked back and forth by the ocean waves) and enjoying the constant changing of the seasons.
Years passed and much of the surrounding coastline eroded away - in one area exposing the high red sandstone cliffs now known as St Bees Head. Rhonda had been fortunate enough to keep her place on the coast though many other rocks living closer to the ocean had come and gone."
"Finally," he said "some time after that, humans came on to the scene. They gradually moved into the area."
The Squire was guessing, about 3000 years ago. "That's right, isn't it, Rhonda?"
"You're telling story dear, I'm going to stay out of it."
"Well anyway from that time on, from what I gather," said the Squire, "Rhonda didn't have a dull moment. She was often picked up, sometimes two or three times a day by various strangers passing by along the beach."
"I never minded the attention." Rhonda added.
"Many years passed, and Rhonda enjoyed the reputation of being one of the oldest residents along that part of the coast"
"But go on, tell the story about the big storm."
"Yes well," returned the Squire, " here is where I come into the picture. Some time later, I'd say back about 175 years ago, while I was sailing from North America in the hold along with a lot of other granite ballast, we strayed from our course and ended up running aground not far from Whitehaven. Running aground was tough break for the ship and the crew, but it was a nice break for us. I spent a good few years enjoying a long relaxing ocean-bed holiday."
"The storm, dear."
He paused again, looked at the rain and then launched into her favorite part of the story.
"At the turn of the century a very big storm blew in off Iceland. There were huge great breakers the size of small mountains, smashing into the shore. It churned the coastline waters up so violently many of us were washed up onto the beach."
"We ended up meeting and falling in love."
"I believe you wanted me to tell the story dear?"
The Squire went on "I had been cast up onto the briny shore only to find myself lying beside the most beautiful piece of rounded granite I had ever seen in my life. "
"You were quite a hunk yourself"
"I knew it was going to be the start of a lovely long 'rocky relationship'. Oh, It was quite 'Tectonic' at first, of course . We discussed how far the continental drift had strayed, and how the earth's lithospheric crust was made.
They both sighed and looked at each other adoringly.
"We talked of many things," Squire mused as Rhonda gazed off dreamily into the hills.
"Of shale and schist, and sealing cracks
And amethyst and slates
And why debris forms mountain scree
And why the earth has plates
We spoke of sub-atomic mass
Of particles and strings,
Of quantum leaps and isotopes
And earth's magnetic rings."
The Squire stopped and took a breath. "Things started to develop fairly quickly after that."
To be continued
