Puddingstone has a long history in our area. It is a relatively weak conglomerate of smaller pieces, held together as long as the stress is not too great. Something there to chew on, no doubt. Yet I am attracted to the interplay between rock and root, and the mysterious relationships between hard and soft, slow and fast. A scrub pine on a mountaintop has survived in a difficult place. So has this tree, surrounded by puddingstone. It is a comfort to see it respond flexibly to its surroundings. Would that I can do as much!
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