each time i visited foggintor quarry, i sat at a different spot on

the quarry edge to listen

i have visited before
but my listening was changed by my resolve to listen
i went weighty & attentive

so strange & striking to be in an exposed expanse of dartmoor and to
encounter this
watery, mossy oddity in the landscape, vast echoey chunk of missing &
renewal

other folks are drawn there too – one day i set off hoping to be alone at
the quarryside
that no humans would be there to ‘spoil’ my recordings
this was a busy day – the sound of human conversations, laughter &
exclamations
pinged off the quarry sides & rose ghostly, filtered through granite,
space and my associations
reminding me of all the conflicting & guiding voices i consist of

i’m happy to be proven wrong about what is worthy of recording
after all, i am often in need of a nudge
about the shape of stories & how i so easily land on one because it’s
familiar
not because it’s true

–

i sit at the quarry-side
& astonished, i see

coarse-grained rock
become flowing lively channels

arcing, criss-crossing
disobeying stasis

drip pour cascade
becoming torrential!

quartz & feldspar
untether
joining the procession
from here-to-there

participating in the rushing, relentless deluge
of grey-white-pink-black

the prison, the pub, the kitchen counter
the bridge, the monument, the ornament

& the landscape-in-waiting

the paving stone, the gravestone
the floor, the building block

deep underwater
deep underground
deep under rainforest

–

to declare something dead
or frozen
or abandoned
is to acknowledge a (former) aliveness

ruth e. st. leger-gordon in ‘witchcraft and folklore of dartmoor’ says
according to superstition, at certain specified dates and times, such as
midnight, sunrise, noon or midsummer eve, varying in each locality,
every stone in a circle
becomes endowed with a fleeting moment of life. then it turns slowly
round, or otherwise shifts its position slightly before settling down again
into grey immobility

–

our story goes
rock was taken
from here to there

to

support cars & pedestrians in the capital city
give a smooth front to the headquarters of justice
provide somewhere to rest our cutlery
& mix our ingredients
give shelter
keep people inside
define a boundary
even out rough ground
make a sturdy foundation
celebrate a hero
identify a grave

–

the rock is unfinished
over there and over here

a nesting place
for continuing stories

–

Quote from p.67 of ‘Witchcraft and Folklore of Dartmoor’ – Ruth E. St. Leger Gordon