don't take it for granite (o)

@open

ROCKS were not necessarily Keigan's favorite things, but they could be interesting none the less. Each and every rock had special qualities that made them unique. It was fun to look at the bridges that had been built over the river and ponder why each rock had been positioned in that particular way, though it eventually grew tiresome. Keigan snapped some photos to study later and meandered alongside the river, stopping occasionally to snap a picture of other people at the rock garden or enjoying nature.

It was March, and, naturally, quite chilly; Keigan's nose had turned pink from the cold air and he gently tugged his beanie a little further onto his ears. This sort of weather controlled the amount of people at the park, as some didn't like the cold and others simply didn't want to put up with it. Keigan didn't mind the lack of company at the rock garden, nor did he mind the cold; having grown up in Michigan, he was enjoying the Winters in Washington considerably more. He paused to snap a picture of the water below one of the stone bridges and began to move again, breath fogging up the air before him. 

The young man moved out onto the bridge he'd just photographed and looked around, trying to see if there was anything else worth photographing at this particular moment in time. Without finding anything that seemed extraordinary, he shrugged and began to ponder his course of action. He'd been out since 12pm and it was approaching 1:30pm, so it seemed it would soon be time to retreat to the warmth of a local establishment or find something that would be more engaging than the lovely rocks and the wandering river.