Yesterday afternoon Travis and I went snowshoeing again, taking advantage of my membership to the Morton Arboretum (which was just renewed for another year by my father--Thanks, Dad!) and the copious snowfall enjoyed by Chicagoland this winter. It was a not-unreasonably cold and unwindy day, which have been rare, and proved perfect for a trek through the woods.
The latter portion of our three hour hike took us down the Heritage Trail and back to "Big Rock," which is (you guessed it) a huge granite boulder geologists believe to have been deposited by glaciers many thousands of years ago. Big rock sits on the dividing line of prairie and forest, causing historians to speculate that it was somehow dragged to its present location by farmers of a bygone era who wanted the obstruction out of their field.
It was on Big Rock that Travis and I took our very first photo together back on March 29th. This was our first trip back to the spot since then, and of course we had to take another photo. It's incredible to think about all that has transpired in between!
As we stood there and reflected, we realized that big rocks have played quite a role in our relationship. It was on this big rock that we took our first photo. It was near the boulder where Travis grew up hunting that he proposed (with a super sparkly rock!). And during a mountain descent last summer Travis picked up what we've come to call "The Rock of Love," a substantial hunk of white (quartz?) rock he found sitting all by itself, gleaming brightly in a field of dark scree. The rock made him think of me, and so he carried it all the way down the mountain, and from Colorado back to Illinois, via Columbus, in his carry-on. For now it rides in the backseat of my car, but we hope to someday display it on a mantle or shelf in our home, with a little placard that says "Rock of Love."