cradle of life

My favorite thing about where we live is that I am constantly learning something new.  And some of the opportunities to learn feel like they come out of nowhere.  The literally pop up (groundhogs), fall from the sky (tree limbs), or appear out of nowhere (swarming termites).  In this case, right underfoot in the river.

Our friend at camp next door asked me if I'd like to come learn about 620 million-year-old fossils in the river just upstream.  Um, heck yes I would!  He'd arranged for a visit from state geologists, who as a community have been studying a fossil site in the South Fork Little River after it was first discovered in 1976.  It was at that time a huge discovery because it was, and still is, the oldest known fossil in North America.  Huge worm fossils.  620 million years old.  Evidence of very early life, hundreds of millions of years before dinosaurs.  What?  Right there among arrowheads and flint, field stones from colonial farms, the mill site from the town of South Lowell in the 1850s, trash from the 1920s roadbed, and our modern-day footprints.  I told my friend, apparently we live in the freaking cradle of life.  

The history here is overwhelming sometimes;  I feel a huge responsibility to know it, understand it, honor it, and it's really too much.  But it's also encouraging on bad days when I think, people (worms?) have been living here for thousands (millions?) of years.  With the ridiculous luxury of the resources I have, I can absolutely do this, too. 

So despite heavy rainfall and high water levels, the scientists came to show us the fossil site.  We hiked upstream and soaked up every bit of knowledge we could from them.  We geeked out taking notes and looking closely and showing off cool rocks we have found in the river. 

On the hike up, the geologist pointed out that we were now on county land, preserved for a number of reasons due to environmental, historical, and cultural significance.  The many chips of flint scattered underfoot are "trash" from precolonial Native American camps hundreds or even thousands of years ago.  The Native Americans who remained at camp were testing pieces of rock to see if they were suitable for arrowheads, working them methodically to see if they would make a good point or sharp edges.  Everywhere around us.  Less than a hundred yards ahead, the tiny waterfall and old mill wall that made South Lowell a town in the 1840s.  We hiked down onto the rocks downstream from the mill wall.  He pointed out circular drill holes and the area where the fossil was removed 50 years ago.  

He told us the fossil has been at the Smithsonian since then, with a smaller piece in Raleigh at the North Carolina museum.  Another sample was found in 2017 by a group of students visiting the same site. 

He taught us the basics about sedimentary, metamorphic, and volcanic rock and showed examples all around us from the "Carolina Terrane."  Where we are was once a coastline and active site of plate tectonic transformation.  Just east and downstream was an active volcano, so just a mile down the road would show completely different types of rock.  But fossils can only appear in sedimentary rock where they are trapped and preserved between layers formed over time.  He showed us a few examples of typical types of rock, joints, fissures, and other geological features. 

But we were there to see the worm fossils, you guys!  Over 50 years, scientists have developed competing theories over the nature of the worm fossils and how they were formed.  The first theory in the 70s was that they were "body fossils" imprinted by the worms themselves in between layers of rock.  Later this theory was challenged because the shape of each worm was so similar.  So a scientist in the 90s theorized that the squiggles were actually the result of pebble movement between shifting rocks in plate movement.  But by the 2000s, scientists found that this was not possible because of the other rocks around it; instead, they believe the squiggles are "trace fossils" resulting from worm tails/secretions as the worms waved and drifted in water currents.  Like footprints of very early life.  This theory was confirmed by the students who visited in 2017 and discovered the additional fossil. 

Bless his heart, the geologist even brought us an example printed to scale so we can see exactly what was present in the fossil site.  Those worms were big, y'all!  I was picturing microscopic but I was way off.  He demonstrated how the worms might have left trails with foam and paper models.  And of course now we are desperate to find another worm somewhere in the rocks.  To feel like we are a part of the history and making our own imprint. 

On the hike back, I felt so incredibly grateful for this opportunity to investigate and learn.  I felt validated in some ways by the scientific interest in this place.  It's not just me, somehow this is important in a bigger way.  It's worth it.  The geologist spent a little more time with us to look at vertical outcropping of rock and a few samples we had found, explaining the plate shifting and hydrothermal change that happened during collisions of plates hundreds of millions of years ago.  The river has washed away all of the soil and rotten rock, revealing these records for us when the water level is low. 

The experience motivated me to continue to take care of the river, the wetlands, the land, and the history within our reach.  I launched myself back into Orange County historical records to learn more about the families that lived here with the knowledge and resources at my fingertips.  I am good at researching and digesting huge amounts of information.  Kevin challenged me to write the story of this place.  I like the idea that I'm putting those skills to good use, and I'm not the only one devoting some energy to the preservation of what's good and true in the Carolina Terrane.