When I was a child, I loved to collect pretty stones from the gravel drive--red and black... brown... gray--I saw them all as jewels fit for a king. My mother saw them as part of driveway and made me put them back.
Now, fifty years later, I have a gravel driveway again, and whenever I walk down it to the mailbox at the road, I keep my eyes trained on the ground, looking for pretty stones. My specialty now is flint, but I also pick up red and black... brown... gray, if I like them. And my husband lets me display them on a special shelf in the den. But, of course, he has to, because he collects stones too.