Elara smiled. She pulled out a chipped magnifying glass, a hand-me-down from their grandfather, a geologist who had seen mountains born and oceans drained. "Not just a rock. An igneous rock. A birth."
She put the pebble in his pocket. "Lesson one complete. Next week: volcanoes."
They followed the trail down the mountain's other side. The landscape changed. The hard, grey bones of the mountain gave way to softer, layered cliffs—tan, rust-red, and slate-grey, stacked like a lopsided cake.
Leo's eyes went wide. "A snail? On a mountain?"
Elara nodded. "Everything. A billion years of fire, pressure, ice, and time. And right now, it's in your hand. That's the most amazing part. Geology isn't just about the past, Leo. It's the story of how we get to stand here at all."