A is for Amber
In my life, I’ve had a number of ongoing obsessions. One of those has been with rocks, gemstones and crystals. I began collecting when I was at school, finding a few tumble-stones of tiger’s eye, and then when I went to Germany on a school exchange, we went to the Natural History museum in Frankfurt and that was when it really began. The museum had a collection of rocks and crystals like nothing I’d ever imagined; a quartz boulder the size of a small car, things that sparkled and glowed and called to me. I bought a rock crystal pendant in the gift shop that I still wear.
But the gemstone that I wear most is amber. Amber is not technically a rock; it’s the petrified remains of tree sap. It’s something that is truly a delight to wear because it is light and it is warm and living to the touch. There’s a lot of mythos about amber; the price sky-rocketed in the aftermath of the first Jurassic park films too, making it suddenly much more expensive than it was, and for a while beyond my reach. My first amber beads came as a result of a small sum of money that came to me with only the proviso to buy myself something lasting and just for me. In my late teens, three close friends of the same age died suddenly in the space of six months and my father, like many parents from the school, took out a sort of life insurance investment policy for me that matured when I was 27 (and hadn’t died!). The money that it made was given to me, and I bought an amber necklace with some of it. The beads mean a lot to me; they remind me of my friends who never made it beyond sixth form and they remind me that I lived.
(The following link is to an article that relates to amber, that I wrote about three years back. Do go and have a read)