When I was a kid, opals were my favourite stone. I recall being very bitter that I wasn’t born in October (although the importance of birthstones was mainly tied to what sort of toy ring I could choose from the kiddy dentist office) and one of my mother’s few pieces of precious jewellery was an opal ring that I would constantly sneak in and handle, despite not being allowed to open her jewellery box unsupervised. So anyway, now I take extra glee in purchasing and hoarding this stone. Sort of like how I still, once a year, buy an entire box of chocolates and make myself sick by eating ALL OF THEM WOOO. Because I’m a grown up, and nobody can stop me.
Also, why not, here’s a bonus piece of rough black opal. It’s really difficult to photograph, but you can see a little streak of shininess in there.
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