By Gretchen Leigh

Apparently I’m the only neighbor who doesn’t have a pile of rocks in my yard. This is an old neighborhood, established in the sixties when they built things the old fashion way.

My understanding is the hill our city sits on was the result of a glacial push that left the rocks behind. Rather than digging out then backfilling the yards with peat soil, or whatever new neighborhoods have that makes their rainy yards sponge-like, the builders left the natural rock deposits right where they landed.

It makes for a very porous yard, which is great. But if anyone digs for any reason, they are bound to unearth a mound of rocks all shapes and sizes. And though I was aware of the rock issue, I did not realize the neighbors surrounding me stockpiled them.

The neighbor to the left of me is a prolific builder of flowerbed walls using rocks he dug out to make a crawl space next to the side of his house twenty-something years ago. I was running my idea of a rock garden by him when he said, “I have rocks.”

I went over to his house to observe his collection and was pleased to find he had some rather large specimens for me to choose from. I thought he was doing me a favor giving me his rocks and even having his daughter pick and haul them. Turns out I was doing him a favor by taking the rocks. Then I mentioned rocks to the neighbor on the other side of me and she took me to her pile hidden in some tall grass. I also told the neighbor behind me and he had several stacks in the back of his lot.

However, I felt obligated to take the first neighbor’s rocks and told him I’d take whatever he was willing to give. He said, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” I thought I knew, because I also wanted a layer of small rocks for the base of my rock garden. He was only giving me the big ones.

When I went to his house to gather smaller ones, I saw what he was talking about. He had a low wall of loose rocks along his fence, like a fort protecting them against really small Vikings. I wondered if it was too late to plug the dam. I took three wheelbarrows full and didn’t make a dent.

My husband followed me around in a panic.

“Did you tell him we couldn’t take them all? His daughter’s over there loading rocks.”

“It will be fine. She’s only loading large rocks.”

I have to admit that I noticed the rocks they gathered for me were getting smaller and I was thinking since there was such a plethora at my disposal, maybe there are better rocks than his. I could afford to be picky. Without accusing my neighbor of pawning his rocks off on me, I told him I’d better place the ones he already given me before he brought more.

Then my wheelbarrow somehow ended up against the fence in between our yards. He and his daughter were covertly gathering more rocks and putting them in. It reminded me of when his daughter was little and she’d throw rocks over the fence for our dog to chase.

I’d ask her not to do it because the rocks would get in the lawn and we’d mow over them. But as a shy five-year old, she’d scurry away and just do it when we weren’t around. Now she’s over twenty-five and I kind of gave her my permission.

Rock goes around rock comes around.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com, on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”or follow her on Twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.