I found these river rocks and others while visiting my cousin in June with my dog, Sharky. My cousin lives on the north side of the Rogue River down in Southern Oregon and we had the best time visiting him. In the evenings, while Sharky ran up and down the riverbank, I walked along the edges with a bag slung over my shoulder gathering the roundest rocks that I could find.
There is something soothing about holding a river rock in your hand; a rock you know has had its edges softened through centuries of caresses from the water that ran over it.
I don't know yet what I'll do with the rocks, but an idea will come when it's ready.