We see the same river but water is never the same.
Because if flows endlessly.
And the eyes that look are not the same either.
Then the river itself is not the same.
A glance at that moment.
A moment that is an instant.
The instant flows, like the river.
Stones know everything, remember everything. They tell a story too.
A stone can tell what happened to us, before, now and ever. They keep that knowledge, that of the ancient memory. Stones tell us about valleys, rivers and prairies. About rain and drought. Of living creatures and of those who are not that alive. They let us know about man. Who walked, who run, who loved and who grieved. They have their own heart.