PLAYLIST
Season 1 (2013) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 2 (2014) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 3 (2015) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 4 (2016) Episode 1
NEW: Go to the blog for new updates
A disclaimer is important here: I am trained as a philosopher, not a paleontologist, and so therefore take what I say in these episodes to be nothing more than an amateur hobbyist and fossil enthusiast. I also opted against the blog format to avoid reverse chronological order. This “pilot” is nothing more than a bit of context for how and why I got interested in fossils. To get right into the episodes, click on the playlist above.
Season 1 (2013) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 2 (2014) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 3 (2015) Episode 1 | 2 | 3
Season 4 (2016) Episode 1
NEW: Go to the blog for new updates
A disclaimer is important here: I am trained as a philosopher, not a paleontologist, and so therefore take what I say in these episodes to be nothing more than an amateur hobbyist and fossil enthusiast. I also opted against the blog format to avoid reverse chronological order. This “pilot” is nothing more than a bit of context for how and why I got interested in fossils. To get right into the episodes, click on the playlist above.
Pilot episode: Fossils in my life, an introduction
A little known fact about me is that I harboured a very strong desire to become an invertebrate paleontologist. Yes, I was the geeky kid skulking the shoreline of the Ottawa River, smacking rich brown shales so that they would fall open like books to reveal the pygidia moultings of the trilobite pseudogygites. That was also me at any age, whenever passing a sedimentary rock outcrop and making my quick observational calculation as to where it was likely to fall in the geologic time scale. And that was me, yet again, looking on wistfully in a moving car along the highway at the raw, exposed strata that I so desperately wanted to inspect up close.
The story of my interest in fossils is entwined with geography; namely, where I grew up. I was born and raised in Ottawa - my home for the first 25 years of life - which as most people know is the seat of federal government, dubious senators, and the harmonious blend of French and English (among a Babel of several other tongues as Ottawa is very multicultural). One of the areas I lived in as a child was a borough called Sandy Hill, a few blocks away from several embassies and Strathcona Park. My first exposure to fossils, perhaps at the age of five, was along the Ottawa River behind the Parliament buildings before the shoreline was rehabilitated (i.e., they imported limestone to prevent shore erosion). Back then, in 1981, I met my first trilobite - or, rather, its moulted pygidium (that is the tail piece pictured at the top of the page, streamed from stoneflake.net). The shales were littered in these pygidia of various sizes.
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Triarthrus eatoni streamed from fossilmuseum.net
Amidst the moulted pygidia were also pieces of the cephalus (head), spines (thorax), and glabella (the bumpy proboscis-like bit between its eyes), but never could I find a full specimen! As well, there were graptolites, and shimmeringly metallic-esque brachiopods peppered throughout these books of shale, crinoids and so forth. There were also some very tantalizing fragments of the trilobite species triarthrus eatoni, and it would not be until a special trip to the south end, aged 15, near Orleans at a shale outcrop that I would find a full specimen (see the gallery at the bottom of this page). And, to this day, I would thrill at finding a specimen of phacops rana or a curled up flexicalymene.
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Resembles the nautioloids that I found, but mine were a little more opalescent, larger, and set in black shale. Image streamed from rdchdwck.com
In my own neighbourhood of Sandy Hill, I recall the wonder I felt in encountering deep black shales studded with pyritized nautiloids - their flattened and fragile orangey-yellow glint so stark against the fine-grained black shale. Every time there was substantial roadwork, the earth would open up such treasures to me that the workmen had tossed to one side. I also encountered the almost gracile wending of crinoids (either as sectioned nodules or a whole chain of them in the stalk, resembling a pipe cleaner). With the Canadian shield just across the river, it was not uncommon to find mica books and other igneous rocks of interest. I was surrounded by a large band of geologic history spanning one billion (Pre-Cambrian) to 500 million years ago (Cambrian). [note: of the cephalopods, I have never found an ammonite - bucket list!]
You might say that I conducted several fossil-hunting expeditions throughout my childhood. I may have been only 11 or 12 when I entered the Geologic Survey of Canada, on my own, looking through their stacks of maps and articles. I complemented my learning in this area with multiple trips to the public library. And, it goes without saying that there were a brace of books on fossils that I borrowed repeatedly from our elementary school library, gazing in wonder at both the photo plates of fossils I wanted to find, and the artist impressions of a paleozoic world.
You might say that I conducted several fossil-hunting expeditions throughout my childhood. I may have been only 11 or 12 when I entered the Geologic Survey of Canada, on my own, looking through their stacks of maps and articles. I complemented my learning in this area with multiple trips to the public library. And, it goes without saying that there were a brace of books on fossils that I borrowed repeatedly from our elementary school library, gazing in wonder at both the photo plates of fossils I wanted to find, and the artist impressions of a paleozoic world.
I grew up in the Billings Formation, dominated by rich Cambrian shales. But, at the age of 12, we moved to the west of Ottawa - first to Nepean for a short while, and then to simply the west end. So began my introduction to a new geologic world, this one devoid of the rich, easy to separate books of brown and black shales, and one of dense and chunky limestones. By the time I had entered Laurentian High School, my love of fossils had not in any way abated. I continued to collect them, and spend my weekends on a combination of fossil hunting with an interval of harvesting notes from paleontology books at the public library from which I would draw taxonomic tables. I had once written to the Geological Survey of Canada (GSC) and requested a surface geology map of Eastern Ontario - which they ever so kindly sent me. Given as I was to near-marathon walks (I was a bit on the poor side to afford the bus), I made 8+ hour treks in every compass direction in search of outcrops, consulting my trusty (and eventually tattered) GSC map. I planned my treks accordingly, carrying a backpack with some tissue (for delicate specimens), a tiny hammer, and other basic accoutrements of the amateur fossil hunter.
The west end of Ottawa was very unlike the Billings Formation of the east. Instead of shales, the Ottawa River west of Hog’s Back was entirely littered in limestones, some of which hosted enormous coral colonies with very well defined septae (none of which I could cart home given that they were aggregated on stone much bigger than me). There was an absolute absence of trilobites (my first and oldest fossil friends), several worm burrows, and plenty of brachiopods. I had entered the Upper Cambrian / Lower Ordovician. The paucity of trilobites was easily explained due to the conditions of the seas during this epoch in this particular area.
Behind my high school was a significant patch of undeveloped land buttressed on its north end by a sprawling forest littered with trails I spent many an autumn wandering through, which ended at a fenced quarry. A hole in the back-fence allowed students to make use of the trails through the fields to the housing projects some fair distance away. Where their feet had worn out the greenery and the soil was laid bare enormous slabs of limestone embedded with nautiloids measuring up to almost two feet, their septae quite visible between the phragmacones, as they were all cross-section. Delving deeper into the trails, and off them, I came to a few sink points where there was a loose scattering of rounded limestones encrusted with brachiopods, almost each of them housing a lump of calcite as if in parody of a pearl. It was also in this area that I found - but subsequently had to leave behind in my more nomadic twenties - the tail end piece of a nautiloid with closely banded sutures, a circumference of about 20+ inches (thus suggesting that the nautiloid in full would have been a little over two metres long). Repeated visits to that site never yielded any other fragments of that specimen. I did, however, encounter other nautiloids in this area. Whereas I had become accustomed in my childhood to their flattened and pyrite-coloured appearance in shale, these were round, grey, but with such dazzling calcite siphuncles. The area I am referencing has now been concealed by a sprawling housing development: one can tell that one has aged when we begin to reflect on the empty spaces that are no more.
By the time I attended Carleton University, my fossil-fetish had to be put to one side to pursue my studies. Of course, deeply ingrained habits meant that I would still instinctively find myself pulled to rock outcrops. By the Rideau River there were some slabs of limestone and shale. It is uncertain if they were initially from on-site, or quarried and imported elsewhere. However, from a survey of the specimens I was finding, there was a preponderance of fossil fauna that highly suggested that these were Billings Formation shales, replete with the trilobite pseudogygites, tantalizing bits of triarthrus, and various brachiopods, crinoids, and graptolites. I scoured this area which really only consisted of about 4-5 hulking shales stacked one on top of the other (each about half the size of a washing machine). They were also very brittle, and so they shattered into sharp chips quite easily, or otherwise crumbled to powder. But I was fairly old hat at prying rocks apart, or bashing one against the other.
The west end of Ottawa was very unlike the Billings Formation of the east. Instead of shales, the Ottawa River west of Hog’s Back was entirely littered in limestones, some of which hosted enormous coral colonies with very well defined septae (none of which I could cart home given that they were aggregated on stone much bigger than me). There was an absolute absence of trilobites (my first and oldest fossil friends), several worm burrows, and plenty of brachiopods. I had entered the Upper Cambrian / Lower Ordovician. The paucity of trilobites was easily explained due to the conditions of the seas during this epoch in this particular area.
Behind my high school was a significant patch of undeveloped land buttressed on its north end by a sprawling forest littered with trails I spent many an autumn wandering through, which ended at a fenced quarry. A hole in the back-fence allowed students to make use of the trails through the fields to the housing projects some fair distance away. Where their feet had worn out the greenery and the soil was laid bare enormous slabs of limestone embedded with nautiloids measuring up to almost two feet, their septae quite visible between the phragmacones, as they were all cross-section. Delving deeper into the trails, and off them, I came to a few sink points where there was a loose scattering of rounded limestones encrusted with brachiopods, almost each of them housing a lump of calcite as if in parody of a pearl. It was also in this area that I found - but subsequently had to leave behind in my more nomadic twenties - the tail end piece of a nautiloid with closely banded sutures, a circumference of about 20+ inches (thus suggesting that the nautiloid in full would have been a little over two metres long). Repeated visits to that site never yielded any other fragments of that specimen. I did, however, encounter other nautiloids in this area. Whereas I had become accustomed in my childhood to their flattened and pyrite-coloured appearance in shale, these were round, grey, but with such dazzling calcite siphuncles. The area I am referencing has now been concealed by a sprawling housing development: one can tell that one has aged when we begin to reflect on the empty spaces that are no more.
By the time I attended Carleton University, my fossil-fetish had to be put to one side to pursue my studies. Of course, deeply ingrained habits meant that I would still instinctively find myself pulled to rock outcrops. By the Rideau River there were some slabs of limestone and shale. It is uncertain if they were initially from on-site, or quarried and imported elsewhere. However, from a survey of the specimens I was finding, there was a preponderance of fossil fauna that highly suggested that these were Billings Formation shales, replete with the trilobite pseudogygites, tantalizing bits of triarthrus, and various brachiopods, crinoids, and graptolites. I scoured this area which really only consisted of about 4-5 hulking shales stacked one on top of the other (each about half the size of a washing machine). They were also very brittle, and so they shattered into sharp chips quite easily, or otherwise crumbled to powder. But I was fairly old hat at prying rocks apart, or bashing one against the other.
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On the left are rugose corals. On the right, spirifers. Both were very abundant in my trip to Arkona. Image streamed from uwaterloo.ca
Although I had spent a year in Vancouver, I found nothing in the immediate area of geological interest. I returned to Ottawa for my Masters, and bid adieu in 2004 to come to London to pursue a PhD. Geologically, London is part of the vast Dundee Formation, characterized by light brown limestones with some occasional chertiness (I understand that I may have inadvertently produced a tongue-in-cheek description of London’s inhabitants!). From a fossil-monger’s perspective, it is fairly dull. Dominated mostly by Middle Devonian (~390 mya) corals, unspectacular brachiopods, and maybe the occasional crinoid bit, there is little excitement in the stones around here. I had noticed that the Visual Arts Centre at Western is composed of similar limestone, but may have been quarried from elsewhere (I would encourage anyone to inspect its outer walls as I have seen traces of nautiloids in it, but mostly sectioned corals of significant size). If that were the end of my fossil story, it would be somewhat anticlimactic. Fortunately, in 2009 my wife and I made a short car trip to Arkona whose formations are quite exciting. There are spirifer brachiopods and rugose corals that just pop out of the strata without their matrix; that is, they come out whole without any superfluous stone (as pictured above). I amassed quite a collection of these which now have their home in our garden.
In 2010, as part of our multi-week trip to Nova Scotia, I had an opportunity to satisfy my fossil cravings yet again by visiting the north of the province to a size called the Joggins Fossil Cliffs, a UNESCO Heritage site that hosts fossils dating back to ~300 mya. There were, of course, strict rules that prohibited any visitors from taking any fossils (and the clearly visible guides in their fluorescent vests were more than just information resources - they were also surveilling!). I was, to be frank, somewhat disappointed in my Joggins experience having only encountered a few trace specimens of fossilized ferns (do not get me wrong: that is fairly exciting enough, but I was hoping to find evidence of some vertebrates). Overall, the only geological find of note while in Nova Scotia was a trip to sandstone cliffs not marked on our GPS where I found enormous hunks of gypsum.
Although I still have a collection of fossils, my collection has been depleted by circumstance. I had, in my later teenage years, donated most of my collection (including some wondrous specimens of amethyst, fluorite crystals, beryl, nickel ore, germanium, and plenty others) to the young daughter of a family friend. Many of the other specimens were victims of austere choices in packing light in the nomadism of a student’s life where rocks are indeed a literally heavy burden. I am of a mind to take pictures of the specimens that still exist, and that I hope to increase upon in the future. I have opted instead to provide pictures of other people’s collections as they very much resemble my own specimens back in my collection’s heyday.
Although I have traveled across most of Canada from coast to coast, throughout the US, and various locations throughout the world, I have not accumulated many fossils from faraway places. Either I was on business and so too preoccupied, or was not in the presence of any sedimentary outcropping whereby I could steal away and sift through the contents. Perhaps I did miss my calling to enter into the proper study of paleontology, but it is a passion... and that which we cannot cure, we must endure! In future, should my fossil-fetish continue, perhaps I will rebuild the collection and post some pictures. Until then, if you see me deviating toward some pile of shale, or staring at a building facade with abnormal interest, you will know why!
In 2010, as part of our multi-week trip to Nova Scotia, I had an opportunity to satisfy my fossil cravings yet again by visiting the north of the province to a size called the Joggins Fossil Cliffs, a UNESCO Heritage site that hosts fossils dating back to ~300 mya. There were, of course, strict rules that prohibited any visitors from taking any fossils (and the clearly visible guides in their fluorescent vests were more than just information resources - they were also surveilling!). I was, to be frank, somewhat disappointed in my Joggins experience having only encountered a few trace specimens of fossilized ferns (do not get me wrong: that is fairly exciting enough, but I was hoping to find evidence of some vertebrates). Overall, the only geological find of note while in Nova Scotia was a trip to sandstone cliffs not marked on our GPS where I found enormous hunks of gypsum.
Although I still have a collection of fossils, my collection has been depleted by circumstance. I had, in my later teenage years, donated most of my collection (including some wondrous specimens of amethyst, fluorite crystals, beryl, nickel ore, germanium, and plenty others) to the young daughter of a family friend. Many of the other specimens were victims of austere choices in packing light in the nomadism of a student’s life where rocks are indeed a literally heavy burden. I am of a mind to take pictures of the specimens that still exist, and that I hope to increase upon in the future. I have opted instead to provide pictures of other people’s collections as they very much resemble my own specimens back in my collection’s heyday.
Although I have traveled across most of Canada from coast to coast, throughout the US, and various locations throughout the world, I have not accumulated many fossils from faraway places. Either I was on business and so too preoccupied, or was not in the presence of any sedimentary outcropping whereby I could steal away and sift through the contents. Perhaps I did miss my calling to enter into the proper study of paleontology, but it is a passion... and that which we cannot cure, we must endure! In future, should my fossil-fetish continue, perhaps I will rebuild the collection and post some pictures. Until then, if you see me deviating toward some pile of shale, or staring at a building facade with abnormal interest, you will know why!
A mini-gallery of current fossils and rocks.
(Top row: petrified wood, full specimen of triarthrus eatoni, coral, three rugose corals. Bottom row: headless specimen of pseudogygites - artificially coloured, spirifer, pyritized nautiloid)
(Top row: petrified wood, full specimen of triarthrus eatoni, coral, three rugose corals. Bottom row: headless specimen of pseudogygites - artificially coloured, spirifer, pyritized nautiloid)