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When I was 14 my own lack of clarity about what my life would become, plus the many expectations of my parents, weighed me down like a rock. I’m SO much happier now!!
Wow–that is young to carry so much.
Carol, I have seen these as well…about 5 years ago…in fact I think I took pictures of them too.
My thought…14 hours, because I am always wishing a day had a few more hours.
I love that!
14 feet from high to low tide on a fishing jetty of rocks. As the water comes up, you can tell how many feet, but not how fast, until the water reaches that point.
aha!
I saw a chain gang once when I was little. They were breaking rocks to make way for a new road. One of them had the no.14 on their dirty black and white striped uniform.
That sounds like the start of a short story.
A numbered movie prop!
I wonder why you ‘d say that…? LOL
Although it has nothing to do with the number on the rock, today I am reminded that my black Lab/Dalmation is 14 years old. Will she make it to 15?
I hope she does. We lost our Little He in March at age 16.
What was Little He?
Little He is the name of our late rescue dog whom my husband hand raised since 4 weeks of age and who died in March.
Aww so sad. What I meant though, was what kind of dog?
Just because we watched the Monaco F1 Grand Prix last weekend (my son is a Ferrari nut) – The Half Moon Bay Rock Rolling Grand Prix – that rock is lucky number 14!
Cool!
I agree with Cheryl–it reminds me of the numbering on a prison uniform. BUT I also know it’s likely a tide marker. The perils of being a captain’s daughter. 🙂
Ah, real knowledge!
You’re half way to 30 Rock. Keep up the good work! Just a few more rocks to go!
I love that!
My daughter was 14 the year I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Lots of memories, good and bad, linked to the number.
Ah…I’ll bet.
From the cover of a pile of rocks, we watched as the long, seemingly spindly arm of the machine fired its bright, orange ray. And, when the beam of light struck a human figure, with a sound that was not quite a sound, flesh and blood was immediately transformed into cold, lifeless lumps of stone. Some large. Some small. But all identified by a simple, stencilled number.
And that was when we realized that the unremarkable pile of rocks that sheltered us was anything but.
Heehee! My SciFi is showing…
Whoa, girlfriend! What’s going out on that farm today? LOL
At first glance I completely missed the number 14, was focused on the rock formation and immediately remembered slipping on some rocks as a kid around 12 years of age and falling into the water…then I read a few replies and people were talking about the number 14!
Isn’t it interesting how we see different things in the same photo…
I’m commenting before I read all the others. I’m thinking at one time it was a depth gauge. Maybe a concrete wall or part of a bridge that gauged how deep the water was.
Ah, I wonder….
I was 14 the last time I visited Arizona. The rock of my paternal family, my grandmother passed after I left that year.
when I was 14 I often felt as if I was between a rock and a hard place. Another great short story topic!
My first thought was that it was a number painted on the rock as a marker for some sort of trail. Then I remembered painting a rock on my college campus with a group of friends as a senior. Then I thought about how I was 14 when my family moved overseas.
Amazing how many different thoughts this photo can trigger! A fun game.