My pleasant evening stroll on the beach yesterday was filled with little surprises. I found not one, not two, but eight chunks of petrified driftwood by the time I was done. The specimens that wash up here are from the Paleocene, about 65 million years ago. Pretty amazing when you think about all the steps involved: the trees had to grow, die, wash down a river, get ground into smooth, small pieces, and then (through heat and/or pressure) be inundated with minerals to become “petrified,” erode out of a rock formation, and wash up on this beach for me to discover.
Petrified Driftwood, Lincoln City, Oregon May 2018
The idea is to die young as late as possible.
~ Ashley Montagu
Balloon Fiesta, Albuquerque, New Mexico 2006
Overheard this joke the other day:
“Why did the chicken cross the road?
To prove to the opossum that it could be done.”
I go to seek a vast perhaps.
~ Francois Rabelais
Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado 2010
Vision is the art of seeing things invisible.
~ Jonathan Swift
Cloud Reflection, Austin, Texas 2007
Thalassophile: noun, lover of the sea or ocean.
Pacific Ocean, Lincoln City, Oregon May 2018
The whole world is a series of miracles, but we’re so used to them we call them ordinary things.
~ Hans Christian Andersen
Green Jay atop Javelina, Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge, Texas 2007