Maybe you’ve got a stash of these too: rocks you’ve collected on your travels, each with a story.

Take the white ones, on the left. These are white quartz from Ontario’s La Cloche Mountains, which line the north side of the North Channel that separates the mainland from Manitoulin Island to the south. A dear friend extended invitations to his family cottage in that region and I’ve had those rocks for years, a reminder of him and his adorable little white dog.

I found the rocks on the right in my parents’ home after my father died and we were cleaning out drawers and closets. Dad had put masking tape on the underside of the stones and wrote on the tape in magic marker to identify these as their mementos from a trip they took around the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia, many years ago. My mother, who loved any colour as long as it was pink, no doubt influenced the choices.

The two rocks in the middle both came from Great Lakes beaches, worn smooth by their time in the water. I found one on a Lake Erie beach and it seemed a “me” rock: long and blond-ish. The heart-shaped stone is the newest on my shelf. I found it on a Lake Ontario beach while there with the man who now shares my life.

These line up in their pairings on the bookshelf: quiet reminders that love comes in many forms, and endures through many weathers.

Photo: Kelley Teahen