Standing Alone

When I lived near the Rocky Mountains I looked forward to my occasional fishing trips in the mountain rivers of Colorado. Although I never caught many fish, I enjoyed the quiet beauty around me, and often fished on a large rock in the middle of a mountain stream. I often thought of all the years that rock had been ravaged by the elements, and yet had stood steadfastly unmoved. I noticed that the rock, even though smooth and worn because of the constant pounding of the water, was the one...