I live along the Catawba River.
I see all kinds of rocks. Round river rocks and white quartz catch my eye.
The stone I found yesterday stood out because of its perfectly flat polished surface.
I turned it over in my hand several times.
There were also polished indentations on each side.
I put the stone in my palm and wrapped my fingers around it.
It fit just like a glove. It was like connecting with an ancestor.
The photos do not do this justice. I wish you could feel this in your hand. It is amazing.
The grinding tool/manos was made for a person with hands the exact size as mine.
I would never have figured this out if I had not turned it around in my hand.
This isn’t just a tool, it’s a treasure.
FLOWER
floweralley 
Becca,that is cool! What do you think it is for? Grinding wheat or corn? My father was a geologist,I have some stone axes he found.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Grinding corn is my guess. I tried to watch some u-tube videos on stone tools, but they were excruciating.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excruciating? for a science teacher, that is seriously nasty.I am not certain it could have been wheat. Cherokee tortillas?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Catawba tribes where I live. It seems too small for corn. Not sure what its use, but it is perfectly flat on the bottom.
LikeLike
Almost no one would have given this rock a second look or thought. But examining this one small stone has left us imagining who might have lived there long ago on your land beside the Catawba River. I love it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Quelle magnifique découverte, c’est superbe!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Denise. I was very pleased to find it.
LikeLike
Oh cool! I have a stone like that – it fits my hand like a glove! Sometimes I carry it around in my pocket so I can take it out and play with it here and there. So meditative…
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is mind-blowing! Time-travel! I can vividly imagine your feelings and thoughts when you understood this. And I know what you must feel. Much so because I once had a very similar experience, wandering across the desolate moors of the island Orust on the west coast of Sweden. I came to a big rock, and I saw from far away that it was flat like a table. It blew my mind away as I came close, seeing the tabletop covered with flint chips and splinters. A few were finished knives and scrapes. I was carried away, much like you with the soft rock in your hand. For a moment I found myself expecting the flint smith to return any moment to continue his work.
I’ve never been there again. I don’t know if I would find it. The moor is vast and there were no footpaths. But I’ll never forget the feeling!
Ellington
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was beautiful. I always love your comments. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And you know I love your unusual mix of poetry and learning, emotion and science.
Ellington
LikeLiked by 1 person