Most of the time we take stones for granted. They are part of a woodland path, a riverbank, or a countryside fence. But every now and then, one speaks to you—through the satisfying smoothness of a water-worn pebble or a rough, peculiar shape of a mountain rock that sparks your imagination. Sometimes big and white, sometimes small and colourful, but always kept to hold a memory of a place where you found it.  And yet, appearances can deceive: sometimes they are not stones at all, which leaves the question: ‘Is it stone, is it ceramics or is it cake?’