July 14, 2009

Momasaurus Reflects on Fossil Dig 2009

I have been home over a week now, and at times it feels like the two weeks of fossil hunting were but a dream. In fact most nights I dream of looking for, and finding fossils. I am actually better at finding large fossils at night in my comfy bed than I was in the field. Damn! Oh well, there is always next season.

I have spent hours thinking about my experiences this year, and I will take this opportunity to share the evolution of my reflections.

Being in the field, with expectations high for finding an amazing fossil to impress my friends and family, was in introspect, lofty. I suspect most prospectors (fossil, gold, gems, or treasure) set themselves up for disappointment, some, if not all the time. I was no different. Each day I thought "this will be the day", the elusive fantasy fossil will be mine. And as we know now, that fantasy fossil remains a fantasy.

Added to the daily frustration of not finding a substantial fossil to share with those back home, some dinosaur relic that you can see without the aid of 10x magnification, was the gnawing envy I experienced. This emotion is not one I often experience, and I must admit it does not feel good. I was always very happy for my fellow prospectors who had the skill and luck to find large fossils. The green eyed monster (as my mother calls it) taking up residence in my mind was unwelcome. I began to understand the fever that overcame the prospectors of the gold rush days. I could well imagine the envy that fueled the duels between pirates over their stolen treasure, and Tolkein's Gollum became ever more pathetic to me. The elusive fossil of my imagination became "my precious". Somebody needed to slap me out of it.

Coming home and spending time washing the fossil scrap helped clear away these unhealthy emotions and brought me back to a place of peace and gratitude for my days in the field and the treasures I now have to share and to learn from. Each is a wonder no matter how small or worn. As I spend time trying to glue broken bits together, I find I am in awe once again. To hold each of them and gaze upon what was once part of an animal that lived 65 million years ago, takes my breath away.

After showing the highlights (so far) to my mom and sister, my mom called me later to say that her favorite fossil was the tiniest bird tooth. It has one good side and is about the size of a split pea. (Triangular shape and buff colored, no serrations but a little indentation in the base edge). Just goes to prove that size doesn't matter when it comes to the importance and impact of dinosaur fossils. Each of us is impressed with the variety and complexity in nature no matter size or condition.

I am taking away valuable lessons from my two weeks in Hell Creek: take each day as it comes; accept what you find with gratitude; tomorrow is another chance to find more wonderful fossils; there is always next year; everything I bring back will look better and more impressive, and I will appreciate it and all that it has been through to find its way to my home in Corona del Mar.
I knew all if this before I left for South Dakota, but I had a lapse when that "fever" took hold. I don't think that will happen again. Next year will provide an opportunity to open up to the possibilities of discovery of life in the Cretaceous.

Until summer of 2010 I will continue to clean fossils and share them with teachers and the Discovery Science Center in Santa Ana. I will read the books and study my fossils so I will be better able to identify discoveries in the field. It will be useful to distinguish one tiny tooth from another, and I imagine Rob and Ryan will also appreciate my improving skills. (No late night ID sessions) Perhaps as I clean the bags of fossils I will find a treasure I didn't realize I had. I may find out that what I thought was a hadrosaur sacral vertebra is actually from some other part of the animal's spine. (working on that right now). It will be a year of discovery and I welcome each day.

Cheers.