When the bus doors opened at Stevns Klint, we stepped out into a landscape that felt completely different from the busy streets of Copenhagen that we had grown used to over the last two weeks. Instead of bicycles whirring past rows of colorful buildings, we were greeted by wide open skies, rolling fields, and the dramatic sweep of Denmark’s coastline.
Our day at Stevns Klint began quietly, in a small museum near the cliff’s edge. The tour guide ushered us into the darkened theater, where a short film introduced us to the site’s deep history. On screen, the rock layers we would later stand on came alive. What we saw was white limestone that had been laid down over millions of years, interrupted by a thin, dark band of “fish clay.” Although only a few centimeters thick, this clay layer marks one of the most dramatic turning points in Earth’s history when the asteroid struck the Yucatan Peninsula about 66 million years ago. This extinction event not only marked the end of the “Age of Reptiles”, but it also paved the way for mammals (and eventually humans) to thrive.
The museum invited us to peer into history, while interactive elements drew us in. Some members of our group got a chance to visit the past via virtual reality goggles, and others sat down to color with colored pencils. These activities struck me as clever ways of making paleontology tangible for all.
Stevns Klint even has a mascot: a cheerful little mammal called Lucky, to represent our early ancestors who survived when the dinosaurs did not. Before leaving the museum, we checked out the gift shop where there was something for everyone. Here I purchased my very own stuffed Lucky that will serve as my class pet for years to come.
"Lucky to be here" -Stephen Jay Gould, American evolutionary biologist
Leaving the museum, the shift was dramatic. After quiet exhibits and films, the cliffs and fields felt alive with wind, wildflowers, and wide views. A climb up the sandy hill brought us to the edge of the cliffs, where the Baltic Sea stretched out in endless blue. Standing there, it was easy to understand why UNESCO declared Stevns Klint a World Heritage Site. This is a place where science, beauty, and cultural heritage collide. As an 8th grade science teacher who covers Earth’s history and the evolution of life in my curriculum, I felt a deep sense of excitement and gratitude standing there. It was powerful to connect what I usually explain with diagrams and textbook images to the very rocks that record this turning point in our planet’s story.
A short bus ride carried us further along the coast to Stevns Fyr. To prepare for our journey, we briefly stopped for an ice cream and fries. Next, we trekked along the coast, pausing for photos practically every two minutes.
Finally, we finally arrived at the lighthouse. Rising tall against the horizon, it has guided sailors for over a century. Climbing its narrow spiral staircase was a tight squeeze well worth it. At the top, the view was breathtaking. We saw miles of coastline, boats of all kinds, and even bright white wind turbines dotting the sea.
The final chapter of the day unfolded at an abandoned church, Højerup Old Church, which stands precariously on the cliff’s edge. Built in the 1200s, it once served as a thriving parish, but erosion has steadily eaten away at the land beneath it. In 1928, part of the church actually collapsed into the sea. Today, the remaining structure has been stabilized. We were afforded the opportunity to step inside its stone walls. Standing in the choir that now opens directly onto the sea below, I felt the haunting beauty of impermanence. The church is fragile, battered by time and tide, yet it endures as a place of reflection, memory, and awe.
The only real disappointment of the day was that the staircase leading down the cliffside was closed. I had hoped to stand at the base and look up at the dramatic layers from below, but safety concerns kept it off limits. Even so, the views from above were unforgettable and still gave a powerful sense of the site’s scale.
For me, the day at Stevns Klint was not just about geology or history. The cliffs and fossils we saw taught us that catastrophe and renewal are both part of Earth’s story. As we boarded the bus back to Copenhagen, I carried with me not just photographs of stunning views but also an experience I will never forget. To visit Stevns Klint is to walk through extinction and survival in both the past and the present. In the end, Stevns Klint reminded us of what was lost, what was saved, and what still lies ahead.
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