The Shatter Zone

Have you ever arrived in a new place to discover it feels as if you've been there before?

Recently I visited Enchanted Rock State Natural Area in Fredericksburg, Texas. Local lore abounds and many of the stories involve wandering spirits. The constant heating and cooling of the rock produces mysterious creaks and groans. While hiking, I focused on my footsteps, listening for those haunting sounds. Soon my feet fell into a familiar rhythm, and I began to wonder why this place felt so familiar?

Climbing the equivalent of a thirty story building, the rock absorbed my attention. Granite. I realized this was the same pink granite found along the Maine Coast, where I have spent my summers since I was born. Here, in the midst of a limestone plateau, granite that formed deep underground had surfaced. Sheets of granite cracked and crumbled, sliding off the slopes of the mountain.

Rock exposed, shattered, and broken. Fallen rocks formed a cave. Plants grew from cracks, crevices, and holes. Birds built nests on cliffs. And this is where my most recent story began . . . in the shatter zone.