I used to have a rock collection that I kept in boxes under my bed. Hundreds of unique shapes and textures that had each caught my eye for a different reason. One might have been particularly smooth, one might have just fit perfectly into the flat of my palm, one might have had a pattern that looked like the rings around Saturn.
Secretly, one of the main reasons for my rock hunt was to find a geode inside an unassuming rock. I even asked my dad to cut some open – which he did with an angle grinder while I looked on hoping and praying that when the two halves split open we would find a crystal haven. Alas, we had no such luck, but it didn’t stop me from searching.