Rocks in the river

I grew up alongside a small river, the Little Calumet, and have always enjoyed moving water. Most of the time, looking at a stream, I focused on the water, the rushing, spilling, moving water.  But, what about the rocks in the river, those big, solid, immovable rocks? Does anyone ever think about them?   Sometimes the water will rush down and push against you and threaten to dislodge you from your spot. Other days the water is only a trickle, barely getting you wet. There may even be those blessed days when the stream is dry.  But, through all of that, you are still a rock, holding onto your spot, letting the water rush or push or slide by.  It might seem, from the outside, that being a rock is easy.  You don't have to do anything--don't react, don't respond, don't reply.  But, I don't think the rock would always feel that way. It might be harder than it looks.