“A beetle,” he whispered, carefully coaxing it onto a dandelion leaf.
“First,” Grandfather said, “watch it move. Count the legs.”
His grandfather, a man with hands like cracked leather and eyes that still sparkled with boyish wonder, looked up from his notebook. He saw the beetle on the leaf and saw the question on Leo’s face.
“Correct. But look deeper. Look at the legs themselves. What are they made of?”
“A beetle,” he whispered, carefully coaxing it onto a dandelion leaf.
“First,” Grandfather said, “watch it move. Count the legs.”
His grandfather, a man with hands like cracked leather and eyes that still sparkled with boyish wonder, looked up from his notebook. He saw the beetle on the leaf and saw the question on Leo’s face.
“Correct. But look deeper. Look at the legs themselves. What are they made of?”
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