The Leaf Boat

I slipped past the open porch door, eager to see what lay beyond the living room floor. Outside, the gravel path was scattered with tiny treasures! I paused, tapping my chin to inspect a smooth, speckled pebble resting near a curled oak leaf. A question popped into my head: could the dry leaf hold the stone without tipping? I crouched down and carefully rolled the pebble up into the leaf's hollow curve. It wobbled, scraping against the dry veins, then settled right in the center. My little dry boat stayed perfectly balanced.