Stepping Out of the Past....

On the banks of the Connecticut River in Holyoke, Massachusetts, in a little known spot, there is exposed the bed of an ancient river, swamp, or inland lake. Preserved in the mud, now turned to rock and tilted toward the river, are ripple marks, bits of plants and tracks... dinosaur tracks.


I never knew about this spot when I was growing up. I always loved dinosaurs. Little did I know that evidence they had walked the earth was just 15 miles away from my home. It wasn't until I was in college, on a field trip, that I first visited the site.

The prints are thought to have been made by a small herd of Eubrontes, 15 foot high, 20 foot long, bipedal carnivores, likely to have been ancestors of the T-rex. There are some 130 prints, which crisscross the outcrop, most walking away from today's river. They left their prints in the mud some 190 million years ago.

We were there after some group had visited to study the three-toed tracks. Most were outlined in chalk, and marked with letters and numbers, to identify each individual. You could easily walk in the steps of a dinosaur, their stride being 4 to 5 feet long, with most individuals tracks numbering 8 to 10 steps across the sloping outcrop. Most prints were about 12-14 inches long and 8 inches wide, but there were a few smaller ones. Were those the tracks of younger individuals? I suppose that is a questions for the experts to answer.

We stayed about 30 minutes. Below us, toward the river, were railroad tracks and more rocks. The sign at the parking area asked people not to cross the tracks. I was tempted to go look, but we didn't go down to the water. Several families were swimming there. One group of teenagers, climbed the hill to look at tracks. To them, there was nothing impressive. The tracks weren't at all what they were expecting. Perhaps they weren't as clear or distinct as they thought they should be. Perhaps they expected models of the creatures that made them to be standing nearby. I guess it's all a matter of perspective. Each to their own.

I thought the tracks were neat. So much so that I wanted to share them. I specifically took Edward down Route 5 in search of them, wanting to show them to him as much as I wanted to see them again for myself, 27-odd years after my first visit. They hold as much intrigue for me now as they did then. It's what has always fascinated me about geology, and is a large part of why I choose that as my career. One simple question: What was here before me? In this spot, beside a highway, down a shallow slope and hidden from view of the road lies an answer to part of that question. Dinosaurs were here, stepping out of the past, to walk across the present and say "I was here before you."



For more information: Dinosaur Footprints, Holyoke, MA

On a Pillar of Fire....

Space Shuttle Atlantis lifts off from Kennedy Space Center... STS 132, her final mission...





















Lost from sight...


...until she peaked out from behind a curl in the clouds generated by her passage, in time for booster separation.


Then continued on her way...

On a pillar of fire....

City on the Edge of Imagination...

Last Saturday three of the neighborhood kids knocked on our door.

"We wanted to ask you permission to build a city at the end of your driveway. Would that be OK?"

I must of looked confused. The oldest explained that when it rained we would get a large puddle at the end of our driveway. When that happened they liked to build cities.

"Can you show me?" I said.

We walked down to the end of the driveway where Rebecca proceeded to explain that puddles formed when it rained because the road was high on one end of our driveway where the tree pushes up the asphalt. She and her bother, Kyle, from across the street, and Jake, from next door, would build cites out of bricks and other things. She was obviously the leader of this merry little band.

"No problem, so long as you clean it up when you're done."

This wasn't the first time they've done this. Edward has watched them a couple of other times. They would bring over sticks, bark, wood scraps and other building blocks. This time they had to supply their own water. It hadn't rained for a few days.

About 30 minutes later I wandered out to see how things were going. Rebecca, the mayor of Puddle City, gave me the grand tour.

"This is my house, and that's Jake's house. Kyle lives over there. That's the hospital, and the opera house. It has a stage where I play oboe." She looked at me. "I really play the oboe, too." The list went on...

"These are smaller houses. Over here I'm building a fire station."

Her brother piped up, "But we're on water..."

"Fine," she said, sounding annoyed, "It's a water station."

Edward and I fixed dinner while the kids continued to build there city. Jake lost a shoe, wandering around in one not-so-white-any-more sock. Cars and bikes passed by, their drivers rubbernecking to see what was so fascinating about a puddle and a small pile of scrap wood. The kids played contently, being careful not to wander into the road too far, and to hop over to the driveway whenever a car went by.

As we were finishing dinner, Kyle came back up to the door.

"Do you want to see it now?" Sure, give me five minutes and I'll be out. "She'll be out in 5 minutes," he shouted to his fellow engineers as he headed back to them.

Like any coastal community what started as a quaint village had become a city of high rises. They'd found some larger pieces of bark and created a number of larger structures. The opera had been the largest building on the water, but now it was only half the size of its neighbors. Most of the other building had been rebuilt or were gone all together. Small "boats" had been replaced by yachts. There was even a whale plying the waters.

I stood marveling at the construction at the end of my driveway. From a couple of buckets of water, and a pile of tree bark, a city had arisen, then grown. There were homes and hospitals, bridges and high rises, and a water department. It had kept these kids occupied from several hours.

Then they were done.

"We have to be home by 6:00."

It was 5:45. The deconstruction began. But it wasn't a hurricane that destroyed the city, but meteors from space. Loose pieces of wood began crashing into the builds. High rises tumbled into the water. Walls fell and boats sank. Then each bit of bark, wood and stone used in the city was gathered up in the big blue bucket they'd used for water. They had to return it to Mr. Joe, he wanted it back when they were done.

In these days of video games and hand held entertainment, three kids had created a city out of bits of junk. No flashy graphics, no sound cards, and no controllers. They had built it all from scrap, and when they were done, it was all gone, like so many electrons on a TV screen. And as I watched them from my front window, I remembered the days when I built imaginary cities, and I smiled. Sometimes the best entertainment is your own imagination.

Aliens Among Us...

This was my office for two days last week...

And this was the view out the window...


























Yeah, that's the shuttle launch pad in the distance...

After a 2.5 month delay, we finally got out to the Kennedy Space Center to install Nathaniel's dune vulnerability study camera. Originally we were headed out there at the beginning of February. But one thing after another delayed installation. Everything from scrubbed rocket launches, to conferences, to almost comical miscommunications bordering on interdepartmental turf wars. Finally, despite one shuttle landing and another scheduled for roll out to the launch pad, we got the camera installed.

The morning started clear, at least in St Petersburg. The shuttle Discovery was due to attempt a landing at KSC after being waved off the day before due to low clouds. By the time I got to work, mission managers had already waved off the first attempt, but were still hoping to land in Florida. It's cheaper that way.

As we waited to hear if they were going to make it back to Florida, we packed our vehicle and got ready to go. We'd been preparing for this for several weeks (before February, that is, when we first wanted to install the camera). I'd brought a large utility box with everything we needed and backup supplies of things that might be useful. Since we were about 90 minutes from the nearest Home Depot, it would have been a long drive to go get anything we didn't already have.

We'd been waved off so many times none of us were sure we were going to go until we were actually on the road. Something always seemed to come up at the last minute. So we gathered in my office and watched the shuttle land on NASA TV. Discovery was safely on the ground in Florida and we were on the road 15 minutes later. So far so good.


Two hours later, we bypassed the the KSC Visitors Center and went straight to the Badging Center next to the gate. We were finally there. After grabbing some lunch in the employee cafeteria, we met our escort and cooperator, Ron, and headed out to the site, passing several launch pads on the way there.

The tower is located on the northern border of the Space Center. It's a concrete platform about 2 stories high, allowing anyone stationed there a clear view along the beach in either direction. There is nothing for miles in either direction, except launch pads. If aliens ever wanted to invade, this would be a good place to land. No one would ever know they were there. The shelter has a 6-8 foot landing on 3 sides. The stairs on the tower were more ladder-like then stair-like, with each step was only half a tread wide on alternating sides of the stair, and very steep. It was a little daunting at first, but you got used to it quickly. Going down, however, required your full attention and a good grip on the rails.

They say that fieldwork never goes smoothly, and our first day was not without its share of delays. Once on site we had to wait for security to open the door of the shelter for us. Thirty minutes later, the guard was unable to open the door. That required a call to maintenance and another hour. It turns out the the lock on the door was jammed due to a bent hinge, but was otherwise fine. Once the door was open, the installation got underway in earnest, two hours after arriving on site. First, the camer's cables were snaked through the conduit into the shelter where the computer would be housed. Everything was connected up, the power turned on and, as Nathaniel said, "electrons began to flow". The camera was working. I got down to actually mounting the camera, while Nathaniel worked on adjusting the automatic functions that would operate the camera without anyone present.

The camera was mounted on the rail looking south toward False Cape. It was secured to the rail using three of the longest hose clamps I've ever seen. We had to cut about half of their length off before tightening them down. One neatly sliced my knuckle open, where by I proceeded to create my own little biohazard as we attached the camera housing to the mount. Band-aids was one of the things we didn't have with us. By the end of the day, the camera was collecting data. Our plan was to return the next day to be sure it was still running as expected and make any adjustments we needed.

All day we'd kept an eye on the VAB off in the distance. Shuttle Atlantis was ready to roll out. But we didn't see her. Maybe she would be on the pad tomorrow. Discovery was sitting on the landing strip. She remained hidden in the trees.

The next day Nathaniel and I returned to the tower with Ron. I tweaked the camera mount and sealed up the openings where the cables entered the housing, while Ron and Nathaniel worked out the programing. That took a little longer then expected, so I played with the other cameras we'd brought. The Nikon field camera, to document the installation, and my little Canon. I'm always up for a little extra photography on these trips. It gave me a chance to play with the marcro settling I found a few weeks earlier. There were several good opportunities to play with the settings.


Waiting for crabs to appear...


















Stopping to smell the daises....


















And admiring a bee's pollen collection....


















By the time we left, everything seemed to be working as expected. We'd come well prepared, so there weren't any delays resulting from having to go get parts. Three times I needed to change out a screw and each time my box of back up screws had the part I needed. We even used the drill I'd brought. Most of that stuff was borrowed from the hurricane response equipment, and we used nearly everything that came with us, we didn't want for anything and we didn't have much extra. We couldn't have asked for better weather, either. When we got there the sky was brilliant and the water a turquoise blue. Even the clouds that moved in by the end of the day helped keep me from getting too much sun.

In the end, we didn't see either shuttle. Discovery was stayed on the landing strip, waiting to be serviced before returning to the processing facility. Atlantis stayed safely inside the VAB, waiting for the OK from weather managers, before starting it's long slow march to the launch pad. I really wished we could have seen one of the shuttles. I was disappointed that we didn't. So I took consolation in the small sites, rather then the large ones, enjoyed a view of the Space Center that most folks don't get, and couldn't help wondering if maybe the aliens were already among us...

Rain, Rain, Wash Away...

(With Deference to: Row, Row, Row, your boat...)

Rain, Rain, wash away,
gently down the stream,
all the pollen in the air,
'til it's nice and clean,

Rain, Rain, wash away,
wash until its clean,
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
let the people breath....

Morning Fog...

Usually, on mornings like this the fog is confined to the wetlands. Not this morning. As the sky lightened you could see that the fog was hanging at about 30 ft off the ground in wispy strands, right above the level of the street lights. It was almost as if the lights were holding it up, keeping the roads clear for drivers. In other places the fog reached the ground. The wetlands at SPC, the cemeteries, ball fields, anywhere there weren't any streetlights to hold it up...

Eyes in the office....

Having two gray cats can be a challenge on dark, gray mornings, when sunrise is more then an hour away. This morning, as I was getting ready to leave, I wanted to make sure Mara wasn't in the closet. I was pretty sure, since I'd heard her jump down from the dresser and I'd just seen Nyala in the kitchen. I turned on the laundry room light and looked through the dark house toward the front room. There among the glow of the modem lights were two yellow, disembodied eyes, that moved and blinked, then bobbed as Nyala joined her. Mara found. And as I was closing the pocket door, a second pair of eyes joined the first, hovering by the window.... watching me leave for work...