I should have been a geologist. Sometimes I feel that my life revolves around rocks.
Everyone knows that New England is rocky soil. All those quaint stone walls along winding New England country roads? Made up of rocks uncovered when farmers were clearing the land and preparing it for cultivation. What do you do with all those rocks? Build a wall!
Thus, toiling in my garden in Connecticut was a constant experience of encountering rocks. I could have a bed clear of rocks as the season began, and the next spring would find a new “crop” of rocks. How is this possible? They are brought to the surface by rains over the course of several months. The physics of that phenomenon escapes me entirely, but I do know it is true. Of course the annual recurrence of a new crop of rocks is nothing compared with the “harvest” of rocks when a new bed is carved out. The number, volume, and size of the rocks in the first 12 inches of soil is truly impressive. Every time that I formed a new bed (usually only a few feet long by a few feet wide) I gave thanks that my livelihood did not depend on performing this function on a large field in preparation for planting.
I thought when I left New England I was leaving rocky soil behind. Oh, how wrong I was! The thin soil of Central Texas makes the earth of Connecticut seem rich in comparison. The stones of Connecticut were granite; the bedrock of Central Texas is limestone. Different chemistry; same challenge. Limestone is, of course, a “soft” rock, unlike granite which is a “hard” rock. Rocks are rocks, to be sure, and lifting a behemoth from the Texas soil is still a physical challenge. But, unlike granite, limestone does yield to mighty blows of the sledgehammer. Today in frustration at a particularly intractable boulder, I resorted to the sledgehammer (and suddenly felt like I was a prisoner in a chain gang). Eureka! The rock split! So I hit it again. And it split again. I will be sculpting a new body as I create a new flower bed!
These regional stones (called “honeycomb limestone” by the locals) are full of fossils from the time that this area was all under water. The report on fossils, however, will have to wait for another time. Now it is time for another Tylenol.
Everyone knows that New England is rocky soil. All those quaint stone walls along winding New England country roads? Made up of rocks uncovered when farmers were clearing the land and preparing it for cultivation. What do you do with all those rocks? Build a wall!
Thus, toiling in my garden in Connecticut was a constant experience of encountering rocks. I could have a bed clear of rocks as the season began, and the next spring would find a new “crop” of rocks. How is this possible? They are brought to the surface by rains over the course of several months. The physics of that phenomenon escapes me entirely, but I do know it is true. Of course the annual recurrence of a new crop of rocks is nothing compared with the “harvest” of rocks when a new bed is carved out. The number, volume, and size of the rocks in the first 12 inches of soil is truly impressive. Every time that I formed a new bed (usually only a few feet long by a few feet wide) I gave thanks that my livelihood did not depend on performing this function on a large field in preparation for planting.
I thought when I left New England I was leaving rocky soil behind. Oh, how wrong I was! The thin soil of Central Texas makes the earth of Connecticut seem rich in comparison. The stones of Connecticut were granite; the bedrock of Central Texas is limestone. Different chemistry; same challenge. Limestone is, of course, a “soft” rock, unlike granite which is a “hard” rock. Rocks are rocks, to be sure, and lifting a behemoth from the Texas soil is still a physical challenge. But, unlike granite, limestone does yield to mighty blows of the sledgehammer. Today in frustration at a particularly intractable boulder, I resorted to the sledgehammer (and suddenly felt like I was a prisoner in a chain gang). Eureka! The rock split! So I hit it again. And it split again. I will be sculpting a new body as I create a new flower bed!
These regional stones (called “honeycomb limestone” by the locals) are full of fossils from the time that this area was all under water. The report on fossils, however, will have to wait for another time. Now it is time for another Tylenol.
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