Water can overcome rock, even if rock seems stronger. Water persists and is soft and flexible. It takes longer, yet water gets through the hardest of rocks. Water overcomes because it is

Water can overcome rock, even if rock seems stronger. Water persists and is soft and flexible. It takes longer, yet water gets through the hardest of rocks. Water overcomes because it is relentlessly, obnoxiously, and utterly committed to its goal, much like a toddler who's decided they really want that shiny, forbidden object from the top shelf.

Think about it. Rock just sits there, all stoic and unyielding, flexing its geological muscles. "I am Rock!" it booms, probably in a deep, gravelly voice. "Nothing can stop me! I am the epitome of immovable fortitude!"

And then comes water. Not a giant, thundering waterfall at first, oh no. Just a drip. Drip. Drip.

The rock probably scoffs. "Is that all you got, liquid menace? A pathetic little drip? I've had more impactful sneezes!"

But the water doesn't care. It just keeps dripping. And dripping. And then maybe it becomes a trickle. And then a stream. The rock starts to feel a faint tickle. A slight erosion. It tries to ignore it, to maintain its stony composure. "It's just a phase," the rock probably mutters to itself. "It'll get bored and evaporate."

But water doesn't get bored. Water has no attention span for anything but getting where it wants to go. It wiggles, it seeps, it finds the tiniest crack, and then it expands. It freezes, it thaws, it freezes again, patiently chipping away at the rock's unwavering arrogance. It's the ultimate passive-aggressive force of nature.

And then, one day, after eons of polite yet insistent nagging, the rock looks down and realizes it's been carved into a magnificent canyon. Or a smooth, perfectly round pebble. Or perhaps it's been turned into sand, now happily frolicking on a beach. The rock, defeated, probably just lets out a quiet sigh of resignation, wishing it had just politely moved out of the way a few million years ago.

So, yes, water overcomes because it is the ultimate master of persistence, the silent assassin of stubbornness, and the world champion of 'I'll just keep doing this until you give up.' It's basically the universe's most effective mother-in-law, always finding a way to get exactly what it wants, one tiny, eroding comment at a time.