Rocks by the Rockies

On my recent trip to Vancouver, we rented bikes one day and rode them through Stanley Park. Stanley Park is something like a mini peninsula with seawater surrounding three of its sides. The bike path takes you right around the perimeter of the park, through sandy beaches and marinas and rocky coasts with lighthouses. It is an absolutely scenic ride.

One of the more unique things that we saw was some outdoor artwork:



We happened upon these so randomly. We were pedalling around a bend with an overhanging cliff on our left and the brilliant ocean to our right, and all of a sudden against the sparkling water we see dozens of these stolid rock figures. Some were as tall as me. They were just strange enough to be shocking but not frightening.

Of course we stop to look. Accompanying the rock art was the rock artist himself - scraggly white hair, tattered vest and khakis, hippy-ish. He hung back from the curious passers-by but watched our reaction. He had laid out some signs on the path explaining what the rock figures are. Or -- not what they are, but what some might see them to be.

The signs said something along the lines of:

If you choose to believe that these rocks are held together by glue or nails or some other construction material, then that is what you will take away from them.

If you choose to believe that the figures are completely natural, that the rocks have simply and patiently been balanced on top of each other, and that astonishing things can be formed with strength, care, and time, then that is what you will take away from them.


What do you think?





Hard to say, isn't it? It seems impossible that these rocks could be standing end-on-end with NO glue or nails or anything. Just gravity and the forces of nature. Hard to believe.

I mean, look at them! They are standing tip-to-tip. They defy the laws of physics. They MUST be held together with glue, nails, some chemical or physical thing that would explain this "impossibility"...



So, i stood there for a little while, looking at the rock figures and contemplating what i believed.






I wasn't reaching any conclusions though, and unfortunately my train of thought was interrupted by several loud KER-PLUNKS. The source of the noise was another onlooker who, probably goaded by his comrades, had climbed down to the figures and pushed one over.






And it did fall over. And they were just rocks. No nails, no screws, no glue. And what at first had defied my reason and logic was proven to be not so impossible, after all.






This all led me to wonder...

Why do we need proof?

Why do we need to push things over, take things apart, test their truth?

Everyone else was appalled by that one man's daring intrusion, but in truth we all wanted to know. Some scoffed at the proposition that no construction material was involved; others opened their minds a little and toyed with the idea. But a tiny part of all of us wanted to know. With certainty. We all wanted to go up close to the figures, examine them, look for evidence for either hypothesis.

Why are we dissatisfied with just believing?






And...even after we got the evidence, we were still dissatisfied, still doubtful. With fallen rocks at our feet, the art was no longer so miraculous. This caused dissatisfaction. With the rest of the figures still standing so impossibly, the fallen one was deemed perhaps an exception. This is doubt.







If you choose to believe that these rocks are held together by glue or nails or some other construction material, then that is what you will take away from them.

If you choose to believe that the figures are completely natural, that the rocks have simply and patiently been balanced on top of each other, and that astonishing things can be formed with strength, care, and time, then that is what you will take away from them.



What do i want to take away from it all?





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