I woke up today to the birds chirping and rubbed my eyes as I sat up in bed.
Mmh. Something feels different about today.
"Gatreh! It's time to wake up, breakfast is ready!" I hear my mom yelling from behind the door.
"I'm awake, I'll be down in a minute!" I say as I shrug off the feeling and start putting on my clothes.
The wooden floorboards creak under my feet as I make my way to the dresser. My reflection catches in the small mirror - brown hair sticking up at odd angles, grey eyes still heavy with sleep. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it into something presentable before heading downstairs.
The smell of eggs and toast drifts up from the kitchen, mixing with the morning air coming through my open window. Outside, I can already hear the distant sounds of the town waking up - a car starting somewhere down the street, the faint hum of conversation from neighbors beginning their day.
Wonder what Patani's up to this morning. Probably already bouncing off the walls, knowing her.
I grab my worn notebook from the desk - the one where I've been sketching out maps of our explorations - and tuck it under my arm. The pages are filled with rough outlines of forest paths, clearings we've discovered, and interesting rock formations we've climbed. Nothing fancy, just enough detail to remember where we've been and maybe plan where to go next.
Downstairs, Mom is already setting plates on the table. Her dark hair is pulled back in a simple bun, and she's humming quietly to herself - something she always does when she's in a good mood.
"Morning, Mom," I say, sliding into my usual chair.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." She places a plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast in front of me. "Your father left early for a job across town. Mrs. Henderson needs her porch rebuilt before the summer storms hit."
I nod, taking a bite of the eggs. Dad's carpentry work keeps him busy, especially this time of year when everyone wants their repairs done before the weather turns.
"Are you planning another adventure with Patani today?" Mom asks, settling into her own chair with a cup of coffee.
Adventure. If she only knew how methodically we actually approach our 'adventures' these days.
"Probably. We were thinking about checking out that area past the big oak - the one with the weird rock formation we spotted last week."
"Just be careful, and make sure you're back before dark. You know how I worry when you two are out exploring."
I finish my breakfast and head back upstairs to grab my small pack - just big enough for a water bottle, some crackers, and my notebook. The morning routine is comfortable, familiar. The same rhythm I've fallen into over the years.
Years. Sometimes it still catches me off guard, thinking about how I've been here for over six years. How natural this all feels now.
I'm just about to head out when I hear the unmistakable sound of Patani's enthusiastic knock on our front door. Three quick raps, then two more - her signature pattern.
"Gatreh! Are you ready? I've been up for ages and I already saw three different butterflies this morning and I think one of them was a kind I've never seen before!" Her voice carries through the door, practically vibrating with energy.
I can't help but grin as I open the door. There she is - long lavender hair already slightly mussed from whatever she's been up to, blue eyes bright with excitement, practically bouncing on her toes.
"Good morning to you too, Patani," I say, stepping outside and closing the door behind me. "Three butterflies, huh? And it's not even eight o'clock yet."
"I know, right? I think they were near those flowering bushes by Miller's fence. We should definitely check that area today - there might be more!" She's already walking backwards down our front path, gesturing animatedly as she talks.
This is going to be one of those days where she drags me in six different directions before we even reach the forest.
"Sure, we can start there," I say, adjusting my pack and following her toward the edge of town where the forest begins. "But I still want to check out that rock formation we spotted. I'm curious about the way the stone layers seem to—"
"Oh yes! The stripy rocks! I've been thinking about those too. Do you think they're really old? Like, ancient old?" She spins around to walk properly beside me, her curiosity infectious as always.
The morning sun filters through the trees ahead of us, promising another day of discovery. Behind us, the familiar sounds of Oakhaven continue - doors closing, engines starting, the daily rhythm of a town going about its business.
The transition from town to forest is gradual here at the edge of Oakhaven. First, the neat sidewalks give way to a dirt path worn smooth by countless footsteps. Then the houses become more spread out, with larger yards that blur into wild grass and scattered trees. Finally, the real forest begins - tall oaks and maples creating a canopy that filters the morning light into dancing patterns on the forest floor.
"There!" Patani points toward a cluster of flowering bushes about fifty meters off the main path. "That's where I saw the butterflies."
We push through the undergrowth, careful not to step on any of the smaller plants. I've learned over the years that Patani has an almost instinctive sense for where wildlife tends to gather, and she's rarely wrong about these things.
Sure enough, as we approach the bushes, I spot movement among the white and purple flowers - delicate wings catching the filtered sunlight.
"You're right, there are definitely more than three," I say, pulling out my notebook and a pencil. "Hold on, let me sketch this area."
Might be worth adding to the forest map. These bushes could be a good landmark.
I start with a rough outline of the clearing, marking the position of the larger trees and the cluster of flowering bushes. Patani crouches down near the flowers, her voice dropping to an excited whisper.
"Look at this one - see how the wings have those tiny silver spots? And this one over here has completely different colors!" She's practically vibrating with curiosity, but she's learned to move slowly around wildlife. "Do you think they're all the same kind or different kinds?"
"Hard to say," I admit, adding some notes about the butterfly activity to my sketch. "We'd need to get a closer look at their wing patterns, maybe compare them to something in the library's nature books."
Though honestly, I'm not sure how comprehensive the library's collection is for local wildlife. Might be worth asking Mom if she knows anything about butterflies.
Patani nods enthusiastically. "We should definitely do that! Oh, but first - can we check out those stripy rocks you mentioned? I've been thinking about them all morning."
I close my notebook and tuck it back into my pack. "Sure. It's probably a twenty-minute walk from here, maybe twenty-five if we take the scenic route."
We head deeper into the forest, following a combination of established deer paths and routes we've discovered over months of exploration. The familiar rhythm of walking and talking settles over us - Patani pointing out interesting plants or unusual sounds, me keeping a mental map of our route and occasionally stopping to add details to my sketches.
"So what do you think made those rock layers?" Patani asks as we navigate around a fallen log that's become home to several varieties of moss. "Like, how do rocks get stripy like that?"
Good question. Probably sedimentary layers, if I had to guess. Different materials settling over long periods of time.
"My best guess is that they formed in layers over a really long time," I say, holding a branch aside for her to pass. "Maybe there used to be water here - a lake or river - and different types of material settled on the bottom in different seasons or years."
"That's so cool! So like, each stripe could be from a different year?" Her eyes light up with the possibility. "That means those rocks are like... like a history book, but written in stone!"
I love how her mind works. She takes an idea and immediately finds the most fascinating angle.
"Exactly like that," I agree. "Each layer tells us something about what the environment was like when it formed."
We continue through the forest, the conversation flowing easily between observations about our surroundings and speculation about geological processes. This is what I love about exploring with Patani - she brings an enthusiasm that makes even familiar territory feel full of possibilities, while my more methodical approach helps us actually remember and build on what we discover.
After about twenty-five minutes of walking, we reach the area where we spotted the rock formation last week. It's in a small clearing where several large boulders have tumbled down from what must have been a much larger outcropping higher up the slope.
"There it is!" Patani rushes toward the largest boulder, which stands about shoulder-high and shows clear horizontal striping in shades of grey, tan, and reddish-brown.
I approach more carefully, pulling out my notebook again. The layering is even more distinct than I remembered - some bands are only half a decimetre thick, while others stretch for two or more.
"This is amazing," I say, starting to sketch the rock face and noting the different colors and thicknesses of the layers. "See how some of these bands are only about half a decimetre thick, while others stretch for two or more?"
Patani runs her hand along one of the clearer layer boundaries. "It's so smooth here, but rough over there. And look - this dark line goes all the way across, but this reddish one stops halfway and starts again up there."
She's right. There's definitely some kind of disruption in the formation. Maybe the original structure was broken and shifted at some point.
"That's a really good observation," I tell her, adding notes about the discontinuous layers. "Something must have happened to disrupt the normal layering process - maybe an earthquake or some other geological event."
We spend the better part of an hour examining the rocks, with me sketching different angles and Patani discovering small details I might have missed. She finds tiny fossils embedded in some of the lighter layers, and I spot what looks like tool marks on one face - probably from someone trying to quarry stone at some point in the past.
This is going to make an excellent addition to the forest map. Definitely a landmark worth noting in detail.
By the time we're ready to move on, my notebook has several pages of new sketches and observations, and we've both gained a much better understanding of the geological history of this little corner of our world.