A picture of Mom, toddler-aged, standing by a rock pile and showing off a special treasure in her tiny raised hand sits atop my dresser. Every time I pass it, her passion for discovering, collecting, and showcasing her finds in flower beds and baskets around the house warms my heart.
That apple didn’t fall far from the tree because I added my rocks to hers in bowls, baskets, flowerbeds, and boxes. Our grandkids loved to examine our combined rocks during their visits. As a result, I answer endless, creative questions and encourage hypotheses that challenge my explaining abilities.
Our youngest grands live southeast of Hays. Big Creek runs near their home so they often find washed-out limestone fossil imprints as they wander the creek. They also find clam and gastropod imprints in local stone blocks and fence posts. We compare those to actual clams and snails they find along Big Creek’s banks. The eldest, a kindergartner at the time, wanted to know how those fossils got there so I explained that oceans covered Kansas long ago and those images were creatures who lived in that water, died, and got covered with slime that turned to stone.
Oh man, one question exploded in millions! Was their house under water? Would they have to swim to their other grandparents’ house a mile and a half away? Would their cows have to swim? How about the horses and the chickens? Might that ocean come back? While we resolved immediate concerns and put worries to rest, questions flooded her busy brain. After I mentioned sharks swam in those waters, she wanted to find a shark tooth.
Recently, her 5th grade dinosaur-loving cousin from far northwest Kansas visited. We had an hour to kill so we visited a shale bed south of town to hunt for shark teeth. I explained we might not find one, and she accepted that. Besides, she really wanted to find a Tyrannosaurus Rex. We parked near a road cut where I’ve found teeth and began searching. I explained that oceans covered this region, providing a home for sharks and swimming dinos. Finding a T Rex was unlikely. Immediately, she switched gears to ask if we’d find a megalodon tooth.
Obviously, she’s learned about prehistoric sharks. I confessed I’d never found one anywhere but in a museum. Then she again asked if we’d find a dinosaur. I reminded her that most dinos in this region swam although a flying creature sometimes shows up. To which she responded, “You mean like plesiosaurs, mosasaurs, and Pteranodons?” Kudos to her teachers and Mom.
“Exactly, but right here, we find itty bitty shark teeth.” While she wandered, eyes to the ground spying chunks of light-colored limestone she swiftly identified as T rex teeth, I sought just one shark tooth she could pick up.
Despite our limited time, I spied a bleached white triangle with gnarly roots that once connected tooth to jaw. I called her over so she could find and collect it. She kept choosing large, triangular, limestone chunks as I repeated, “It’s really small.” Finally, she zeroed in and lifted her trophy high.
Later that day, we showed pictures of that find to the cousins at Easter dinner. Now they can’t wait to visit gramma’s to hunt shark teeth. I hope Mom knows her rock hunting gene is alive and well in the youngest generation.
Karen is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan. After a time away, she’s glad to be home.