Rock/Stone 16th Dec 2025

The Tale of Rimble and Darna Far beyond the notice of humans as we know them, there was a village where rocks lived, not breathing but nonetheless alive with thoughts and a sense of self. They had formed in the deep silence of the earth, some born from immense volcanic heat, others forced into being through darkness and pressure. Somewhere in that slow, grinding chain of creation, an impossibility had crept in: life had taken root in stone. None knew how or why. It was as if a spark had slipped through a hidden portal and lingered there ever since. The village was simple. The rocks worked hard building walls and structures to provide shelter for themselves and other visiting creatures. They built channels for waters from the mountain to help sustain them and were capable of imbuing cairn stones with focused energy that restored any damage to the land or even provided seeds for new life. They used vibrations to communicate, varying the frequency to alter meanings. This ability allowed them to talk with other creatures too by resonating vibrations with the blood pumping through their veins. While some of the rocks were deep thinkers who slept deeply and shared ideas through their dreams, others were more alert and impetuous. Some were even capable of movement. They could roll, combine with others to make larger stone constructs amongst other abilities. Through their combined efforts none went hungry. The rocks were not vain. No one felt a need to compare one craggy face to another. Appearance was meaningless. In addition, conversation was not something they were familiar with. They preferred facts, ideas and plans. And so, to outsiders, if any had ever come and tried to talk with them, they would have appeared strange and cold mannered. In this place, identity was a shared hum, not a solitary thought. None valued perfection or beauty. The only virtue was usefulness, ideas that benefited all. The idea of self and individual was unheard of. There wasn't even a word for “selfishness” because the concept did not exist. You were either part of the community, or you weren’t. That was why, when two among them, Rimble and Darna, announced they would leave, many viewed it as betrayal as their leaving would put them firmly in the camp of "weren't part of the community." A few had even wished them gone quickly to avoid ruining their careful plans any further. Yet many more were quietly curious. This was the dry season. The rivers had retreated, leaving the stones that could free to move about the cracked ground. Long ago, each had been larger, but centuries of erosion had worn them down. Chips and fragments of their old selves now slumbered within the soil, perhaps to be reborn into new sentient rock in distant ages. They knew this, and accepted it. Perhaps this was because they had never been ill that they had no knowledge of a possibility of feeling less than they were. To be aware of your end was one thing, to fear it was another. To passers by they would have appeared to be simple rocks. They moved when they chose to and none who observed them would have guessed that they were anything but rocks. They were just a pair of rocks, with names they had given themselves, Rimble and Darna. Both were of a similar brownish hue, dusted with dirt and slave to simple habits that involved staying still and avoiding being washed away in the rainy season. They kept to themselves and were not oblivious to the other lives they shared the world with. They had often gotten literally under the feet of others, which unintentionally caused pain and discomfort. Such was the way of small things sometimes when you realised they were there. Rimble and Darna did not leave in anger, nothing had forced them to go. They simply felt the restless pull of something greater, some distant echo that only they could hear. They had vision of what the world could be like and wanted to experience new places. They didn’t understand it and anyone they explained their reasons to was only left with more questions, they only knew that staying still had begun to feel like sleeping. In comparison to their less mobile kin, they were lucky enough to be able to move so they believed they were wasting their potential by staying still. They hoped to find meaning to their existence and find out more about who they were as a people. They didn't understand how they were alive or what their purpose was. They believed that somewhere out in the world the answers awaited them. They had nothing to pack as they needed nothing. Their journey began. The first obstacle was a hill that they slowly rolled up, pushing small stones around them at the steeper parts to form steps. Then came the controlled descent down the other side. It was not a fast tumble, but a slow slide down a sun-baked hillside. Days passed though they did not mind and they did not hurry. Their brown, dirt-dusted skins gleamed faintly in the red light of dusk. Together they rolled, slaves only to gravity. They bounced and clashed. Sometimes pebbles and grains of sand filtered through their tumble, with ideas bigger than them they whispered small thoughts in grating gravelly voices as motes of possibility slunk between them in whatever gaps they could find. As they went Rimble and Darna told the story of their village to the small ones who listened in wonder and learned their story. Rimble and Darna listened in turn, open to the views of those who spoke. That was their way, not to correct or command, but to hear. So they could take their thoughts forward. One day it rained, so they brought their tumbling to a standstill and settled beneath a small verdant canopy as they watched the drips roll and disappear into the sedentary soil beneath. From this vantage, beneath the leaf they watched the distant sunset explode across the sky in a distinct slew of gold that bled to reds then blues before revealing a blanket of stars. Rimble and Darna watched in silence, unable to fathom the distance between them and mysterious lights above. Their eyes were wide to the distinct changes of the landscape that was laid out before them and tried to comprehend how vast the space was before them and failed. It was then that they realised they missed the mineral wine that had dripped on them freely back in their home village as it often brought renewed vitality to their musings, so rather than try to understand everything they would start by looking around them. They saw remnants of beetle shells that were scattered before them and became curious what had caused the demise of the creatures and briefly discussed what had caused it. It was then they formed a new idea, a simple one: they would be of service to the world they lived in. As they looked at the broken pieces of beetle shell, they understood that it was not dissimilar to the world around them. A place that might seem tough and enduring, but also had vulnerabilities. They also thought about the beetle’s wings that were hidden beneath the shell and wondered if that, too, had a deeper meaning. For all their intentions they were aware that a stone was still a stone, bound to do only what a stone could. Yet though they held an uncommon gift, being able to communicate and move about. Just because they could do more than their kin did not mean that they were the right ones to do it. Similarly, they understood that just because there appeared to be someone better for the job it didn't mean that they were. Appearance for example meant nothing beside the worth of the right ideas. Rolling onward, they came across a beaver dam deep in the wilderness. Twigs, branches, and stones were wedged tight, halting water that once nourished the valley below. The trapped rocks groaned softly, complaining that sticks had been jabbed between them, leaving them unable to move or free the flow. Rimble and Darna tried to help, they encouraged the other rocks to rumble and vibrate to free the trapped ones, but the dam held fast. Overhead, they saw a flock of birds circle. Rimble tried to call out, but Rimble could not send vibrations into the sky and birds were not known for stopping to listen to rocks. It was more often thought they despised them from the numerous carefree fly-by splatterings they had to endure. Keeping an open mind, Rimble tried to think of a way to get their attention, they believed they were hunting for food. Then Darna saw a spiky berry bush, ripe and glowing red. An idea struck. Darna rolled into a fallen berry, coating her rugged surface in its skin, then back to Rimble. Impressed, he did the same. Soon, two strange, berry-red stones glistened in the open nearby to the spiky bush. They hoped the ruse would work, that they would be picked up by the birds. A curious bird swooped down and snatched up Rimble taking them high into the sky. It became confused by the hardness of its “berry,” almost dropping them in frustration, until Rimble rumbled a message through the bird’s beak. The vibration became meaning: *Lots of yummy berries! Help us free the water, and there will be berries aplenty.* Intrigued, the bird agreed. It fluttered to the dam and tugged at the stuck branches with Rimble in its beak directing it. Slowly, sticks began to loosen. A movement down the dam put the bird on edge, it turned its head so it could see what was approaching. A beaver clutching more twigs and sticks had returned to secure any loose bits. It saw the bird pulling apart its finely crafted work. The beaver was furious, it dropped the twigs then rushed across the top of the dam to defend its work. Just as it neared, Darna, now held aloft by another bird, saw what was coming. She directed her bird toward a particular branch beneath the beaver’s path. The bird did so and managed to pull at one that stuck up into the air. The beaver hit it, but found it was supported by another stick behind it, which made it like a spear stuck into the ground to prevent the advance of cavalry. Jabbed hard by the stick the beaver was stopped in its tracks and in its efforts to avoid being impaled it hopped sideways, which sent it tumbling over the edge of the dam. It gripped onto a branch that was overhanging the water and chittered with a mix of anger and fear. Rimble saw the commotion, but saw Darna had the situation in hand. So they told the bird to keep pulling the sticks. The beaver clambered up and approached more cautiously. It watched for Darna's bird, looking to avoid similar pitfalls. It stalked towards Rimble, starting to pick up speed. It was clear to Darna that the bird carrying them had no interest in attacking the beaver directly, however it had no issues with flying ahead of it to unsettle it. The beaver was not dissuaded it just kept going. It stopped a short way from Rimble and their bird as they continued to pull out twigs. The beaver then leapt and attempted to scare the bird away, which it did. Unfortunately for the beaver, the bird had been struggling with a particular twig when the beaver pounced and the fright was just what it needed to pull it free just in time. The beaver landed awkwardly as the bird flew off with Rimble, the twigs beneath it shifted, sliding downwards. There was nothing to grab onto as it all shifted. The beaver lost its balance and was subjected to a free fall tumbling into the churning pool below with a startled splash. The birds returned to their work, freeing more twigs, until Rimble and Darna were sure that it was no longer held back. With the dam now prepped Rimble and Darna requested a return to solid ground and the birds obliged. They rolled under and back out from beneath the spiky berry bush with as many berries as they could in gratitude for the birds' help. Rimble and Darna returned to the dam and sent vibrations into the earth, speaking to the rocks beneath the dam. This time the vibrations were enough to dislodge the remainder of twigs and sticks, which were then pushed by the full force of the water behind them. There was a shift beneath them, a deep creak and then release. The dam broke. Water poured forth, racing down into the valley like a long-held breath escaping the earth. Through subsequent vibrations over the next few days as tales from the riverbed were passed upwards to reach the dam where Rimble and Darna stayed and acquainted themselves with the rocks of the area. It was understood that the lands below that had been dry were now revived and beginning to see life returned. Much to the annoyance of the beavers, Rimble and Darna stayed a while at the dam and guarded the flow against future obstruction. While they may not have saved the world, they had been of service. They managed to make a difference and protected their part of it. So with that they were bolstered and knew that even simple stones and everyday birds could change the shape of things.