I set this piece of native copper on the porch railing ...

This specimen is a 'float' piece I kicked up years ago near a dry wash in the Keweenaw. In the warm spring sunset, the branching, dendritic shape of the copper looks like a nervous system or a subterranean root reaching for water it'll never find. Most people think of metal as something cold and manufactured, but when you hold a raw node like this, you realize it’s just the earth’s own stubborn geometry frozen in place.
I’ve spent the better part of forty years chasing these veins, and I still find myself stopping to admire the organic way a mineral can grow. We’re so busy worrying about the wires and the grids that we forget the quiet beauty of the source. If you’re ever out near an old tailing pile, take a minute to look for the green oxidation—there’s usually a story hidden under that crust if you have the patience to find it.