The town where I have my current assignment boasts, not its close proximity to the state capital, but within its town borders, it houses likely the most famous granite quarry in the union, supplying various memorials of the magnitude of, say, the Arlington Cemetery. If it has quality granite, it most likely came from Barre, Vermont.
Because this high quality resource is so readily available, it is not uncommon for even every-day mundane citizens of this quaint little town to have solid granite mailbox posts, town benches, and even mantle pieces that in other parts of the country would be limited to higher socio-economic class members that could afford such luxury.
The hike itself was a mere several hundred yards, but the massive collection of this stone whose characteristics make it great for statues or art work intended to withstand not only elements but the bearing down of unrelenting Time, is quite impressive. It is almost alien. But to look on it, makes one really think about the age of the earth since its creation, and what solid foundations must have been the skeleton of the grand vaults that was the natural cathedrals of our first parents, Adam and Even. How rudimentary must these lifeless gathering of rocks be in comparison with their living and breathing establishments.
But being even this close to these grand and mammoth rocks gives one deeper appreciation for the title given to our Savior, when think of the strength and relentless way in which He ministers for us now. Unswerving, unerring. Solid. As a rock. The Rock of the Ages.
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