For some reason, stones have always fascinated me. For the longest time, I did not understand why. Now that I am slowly beginning to peel away decades of conditioning from well-meaning friends and family, I am beginning to hear the voice of the stones ever more clearly. They talk to me, and their voice is the voice of the universe, older than time itself.
I think the first time I realized this was when I tried to lay a medicine wheel with small pebbles and stones I had collected. On impulse, I took each of the eight stone into my hand and asked which of the four directions it belonged, or which intermediary direction. They told me. Quite clearly. I was surprised, to say the least.
There were several other meaningful experiences with stones; one that still stands out for me was when I visited the Standing Stones of Callanish on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland several years ago.
I was there the end of February, which meant virtually no tourists and I was the only person there most of the time. I was free to roam around the stones, touch them, just sit and feel and be.