"First, they're not rocks.
They're boulders made of rock.
Boulder is the object. Rock is the material.
If we don't call a common nail "steel," or a Windsor chair "wood," then we shouldn't call a boulder "rock."
And technically, each boulder is a stone..." - Prof. Thorson
Glen (Boulder) Rock NH
Glen Rock NJ
“Glen Rock was formed on September 14, 1894, from portions of Ridgewood Township and Saddle River Township, "that being the year the county went crazy on boroughs." Glen Rock was settled around an enormous rock left by retreating glaciers in a small valley (glen). From a 1985 article in The New York Times, "Glen Rock is named for a 570-ton boulder, believed to have been deposited by a glacier, that stands at the northern end of Rock Road, the town's main street. Called Pamachapura, or Stone from Heaven, by the Delaware (Lenape) Indians, it served as a base for Indian signal fires and later as a trail marker for colonists."
wolf Nipmuck Trail - Wolf Rock -- Glacial erratic boulder perched on top of cliff.
current currant boulder:
“A huge boulder sits perched on the side of a 40-foot cliff like some giant placed it there eons ago.
And it's a must-see sight within the 95-acre preserve owned by Joshua's Tract and Historic Trust. The large circular boulder, a remnant of the retreat of the last glacier, balances near the edge of a cliff and provides a captivating view of the surrounding hills and valleys…the rock was mentioned in local deeds as early as the late 18th century. Over the years, the rock and surrounding ledges have been known as "Wolfpit Rocks," Woolfes Rocks" and Wolfe's Rocks." Whatever the name, the rocks were probably visited by a few wolves before settlers and a special wolf bounty eventually wiped them out of the state.”
The Willimantic River's Great Split Rock Boulder, Lost Scripture Bridge
“…a split-rock boulder.
You can't miss this boulder, and it's one of the strangest sights you will ever see along a river. The 7-foot rock with a huge split down its side absolutely towers over the other boulders as if a giant placed it there, just more evidence of the haphazard path of a retreating glacier. The trail ends at the boulder unless you are a fan of bushwhacking.
There are numerous paths and forest roads visitors can take, past abandoned farm fields and gravel pits. A walk along Babcock Road will take visitors through the heart of Kollar, where smaller trails jut off the roadway. If you have the time, Kollar has much to offer.
The Nipmuck Indians once called this area "Owwaenunggannunck" – or "here people go to catch salmon."
In a state where there's no shortage of rocks in the ground, it seems every town has a famous boulder. Haddam has its "Bible Rock," so named because it is shaped like an open Bible. Union has its "Cats Rocks," a series of house-sized boulders that once sheltered felines from mountain lions to bobcats. Hebron has its "Prophet's Rock," a large boulder where five women took shelter one summer night in 1705 "fearing the wolves would regale themselves upon their delicious bodies," as former Gov. John S. Peters recounted in his memoirs.
Occupying Hartford since 1977, and targeting the state Capitol, is a permanent symbol of resistance — geological resistance, impervious to wind, rain, cold, hunger and boredom. I refer to the Stone Field Sculpture by Carl Andre, euphoniously located at the corner of Gold and Main. There they sit: 36 native rock boulders, patiently ignoring the news of the day and the slush of opinion, symbols of stability even more durable than the architecturally wrought stone buildings surrounding them.
In the words of former Mayor George Athanson, however, it's "just a bunch of rocks," adding, "little could do it."
Wilkins is right. Athanson was wrong.
First, they're not rocks. They're boulders made of rock. Boulder is the object. Rock is the material. If we don't call a common nail "steel," or a Windsor chair "wood," then we shouldn't call a boulder "rock." And technically, each boulder is a stone, generally with a crudely rounded shape, the larger ones having been milled by the shearing action of glacial ice and the smaller ones tumbled by torrents of water.
Second, they're not a bunch. That plural noun connotes a clustered disorder. In contrast, the Stone Field Sculpture is artistically arranged as a geometric array, with parallel rows of stone increasing in size and diminishing in number to the west. Collectively, they define a wedge symbolically pointing toward the state Capitol.
Third, little kids could not do it.
Fourth, the tip of the wedge, reportedly a 10-ton boulder, is the perfect place to reflect on the under-appreciated beauty of Hartford's architectural stone: marble, brownstone, granite, brick, limestone, sandstone, bluestone, slate and all that. That's why I chose that boulder as the rendezvous point for a walking field trip on the urban geology of Hartford, which I'm running this Saturday at noon. This trip, sponsored by Real Art Ways as part of its 35th anniversary celebration, complements one I ran last summer in the rural highlands of eastern Connecticut.
split: Points of Interest
This boulder with a wide crack gives the trail its name. Little ones are welcome to climb the rock and explore its crevices.
If a boulder was too large to move, early farmers often incorporated it into their pasture walls. Here is a good example of this labor-saving strategy.
Last of the Montauks???
"The image of Indian Prayer Rock, seen above, shows a plaque that was placed there to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the Bronx Parks system. The plaque is long gone, but local historian Jorge Santiago found the holes left by screws once holding it in place. According to a 1913 article from researched by Mr. Santiago, the Indian Prayer Rock plaque was one of six plaques placed in Bronx Parks at 30th anniversary ceremonies. Scouts, soldiers, bands and noted speakers all participated in those festivities, with the Parks Commissioner and Borough President on hand to pledge support for the preservation and upkeep of Bronx parks."