I recognize that these are epic cataclysmic histories, but the stories held in the stones at Old Baldy have brought about a deep sense of peace for me when it seems so lacking in the world right now. Maybe it’s the disconnect of me not being present for the upheaval and torrent of glacial meltwaters and crushing sheets of ice, but doing the research, piecing together clues, and imagining the magnitude does create a profound sense of wonder and awe, a stupefying amazement in the unveiling of a billion years of mystery written on the body of the hill. I deeply appreciate the work and practice of listening to the stones and tracking the beauty of the land.