March 29, 2006
I'm so ticked I can't speak. This is why my teeth are worn down. I clench my jaw in order to keep from saying something I'll regret later. It doesn't always work, but apparently it has been effective enough to grind off 5 mm of tooth material over the past 30 years. So, in an effort to relieve my frustration, I thought I would write about one of the things that has me on edge. Strangely, I have a lot of good stories in my brain to write about, and haven't over the past couple of weeks because of a deadline that I'm probably not going to make, despite the excessive number of hours and brain cells spent...
Thousands of years ago, in a secluded cave, a drop of water emerged through the rock, and hung delicately from the ceiling. It waited there as more water drops joined it, until it was ready to fall to the floor. Before it fell, it left behind some tiny minerals. The minerals bonded to the ceiling. Over the centuries, more water drops left from that same place, and eventually the minerals became a visible rock structure. A stalactite had begun. As the stalactite grew, more water found this an easy path to drop from, and the drops began to concentrate in this small area. On the floor the drops of water had started to have a similar reaction. Minerals from the drops began to bond to the floor in this one place, and after a few centuries had started to shows signs of growth. A stalagmite had also been born. The cave was prone to frequent flooding, which would erode some of the stalagmite, but it persevered. After eons of patience, it had exceeded a foot in length, and was almost three inches in diameter. The slow growth of its core was almost like crystal, while the faster growth of its sides had taken on a more chalky appearance.
Unfortunately, its size had become a danger for it. It had taken millenia for it's painstaking growth, and its size in this cave was forced to withstand more and more pressure from the torrents that raced through the cave after excessive rain above. One day, it simply couldn't take the impact of the water racing around it, and it let go of the floor. It was rushed into the channel where it fell to the bottom. The water wasn't quite as forceful here, and after a while it settled into the mud. It would probably stay there until the mud turned to rock and incased it for eternity.
An unknown amount of time passed before a freshman college student and his friends happened across the cave entrance. Loving the adventure of feeling as if they were the first people to discover something, the friends ventured into the cave armed only with their waterproof flashlights. Flashlights that at times needed a thump on a rock to be reminded that they were supposed to be waterproof. Some of the friends had been here before, but it was custom that people who had not been were given the privilege of discovering the cave's secrets on their own. The freshman of interest in this story, walked with the others towards the back of the cave, and after twenty yards or so, it appeared the cave went nowhere. As he looked around, he noticed that the water that filled the lower two feet of the cave seemed to come mostly out of one wall. Those who knew waited expectantly for the discovery they knew he would soon make: the cave went much further back, but only for the brave. The cave itself was easy to find. It was in a state park, and the trail sign that read "Cave Trail" pretty much told anyone with an IQ above 50 that there was a cave somewhere, and it was probably on the trail. However, this secret part was only available to the fearless. The rock jutted out, and with some dexterity one could tell that there was a hole near the floor of the cave. Again, as one that had not been here before, our freshman was permitted the honor of being first through the hole. He contorted his body, and lay on the floor with water running all around him. The hole only extended a little above the water, and with the bend in the channel an adventurous soul would have to push themselves through on his side. He stretched his long arms through the hole and verified that the wall only seemed to be about two feet thick, and there was definitely an opening beyond. His flashlight clenched tightly in his right hand, he began to scoot his way through the hole. One shoulder was above water, and his face was turned up so he could breathe. His left hand was grabbing rock to help push through, and his flashlight was deep under water. Beyond was complete blackness. At eighteen he still contained that reckless feeling of invincibility that seems to be in all teenagers, but his heart raced and he had to mentally face and suppress the flashes in his mind of all the possible consequences of his actions. His heart pounded, and his blood raced as he slowly inched his way through the hole. His hand would slip at times, and his face would go under water, but he was determined, and finally passed through to the other side. He found plenty of room for his head above water, and waited a few seconds before extracting his flashlight out of the muddy water to feel the absolute darkness on the other side. He finally moved out of the way, and waited for his friends to come through the opening. They followed the channel back until they absolutely could not fit anymore. on the sides of the channel, the cave extended back gradually decreasing in space until it closed into rock. Beautiful structures grew between the floor and the ceiling everywhere one looked away from the channel. They had no idea how far they had travelled back into the rock, but there was no danger of getting lost, as the channel only went one way. At the end, everyone turned out the lights, and experienced the most complete darkness one can. They forced their breathing as slow as possible until the only sounds was the slow trickle of water around them. It was a wonderful experience.
The time had come, however, to begin the trek back to daylight. The troupe returned as they had come, and started back through the hole. The rolls of honor had all been spent, so exodus was handled first come - first served. Knowing what was ahead, and feeling confident, our freshman handed his flashlight to the person in front of him, and started crawling out. As he pushed through the mud, his hand came to rest on something solid and mobile. His hand clenched to the object, and he proceeded out with it tight in his hands. For the first time since its conception countless millenia ago, the fallen stalagmite saw the light of day.
Knowing that he shouldn't, but unable to release his prize, our freshman kept it. For the next eighteen years, he kept it safe and in a place of honor. He moved countless times from one place to another until he found himself living in a small house in the Santa Cruz mountains with his daughter. After rebuilding his study, the stalagmite was placed on top of a wood box that his father had made, and was brought down only to show the worthy, and the story was retold.
Today, he decided to do that again. His daughter's class was learning about rocks and how they were made, and it had been a while since he had gone to talk to the class about science. The teacher told the class that "Mr. Science" was going to talk with them about something (she herself didn't know what it would be - that's trust!). Surprisingly, every student was paying rapt attention to what the once freshman was going to say. He told the story of how cave structures were created, using an eye dropper that very, very slowly allowed a water drop to fall to his hands to demonstrate the amount of time it took for something like this to happen. The kids were enthralled and enthusiastic when the guest of honor was shown. He told them that he was going to leave it on the table for them to look at and touch, but they had to be very, very, very careful with it, because of how special it was to him.
The stalagmite survived the whole day. His daughter decided she should bring it home, because he had not made it clear as he had done with other things that he would pick it up the following day or so. She didn't put it in her backpack where it would be safe, but opted to carry it in hopes that others would see it and want to come talk about it. As she walked across the playground, she dropped it.
It broke in half.
Millenia in the making, eighteen years under careful care, it broke from about a three foot fall onto blacktop.
Very ticked amateur spelunker...
Thousands of years ago, in a secluded cave, a drop of water emerged through the rock, and hung delicately from the ceiling. It waited there as more water drops joined it, until it was ready to fall to the floor. Before it fell, it left behind some tiny minerals. The minerals bonded to the ceiling. Over the centuries, more water drops left from that same place, and eventually the minerals became a visible rock structure. A stalactite had begun. As the stalactite grew, more water found this an easy path to drop from, and the drops began to concentrate in this small area. On the floor the drops of water had started to have a similar reaction. Minerals from the drops began to bond to the floor in this one place, and after a few centuries had started to shows signs of growth. A stalagmite had also been born. The cave was prone to frequent flooding, which would erode some of the stalagmite, but it persevered. After eons of patience, it had exceeded a foot in length, and was almost three inches in diameter. The slow growth of its core was almost like crystal, while the faster growth of its sides had taken on a more chalky appearance.
Unfortunately, its size had become a danger for it. It had taken millenia for it's painstaking growth, and its size in this cave was forced to withstand more and more pressure from the torrents that raced through the cave after excessive rain above. One day, it simply couldn't take the impact of the water racing around it, and it let go of the floor. It was rushed into the channel where it fell to the bottom. The water wasn't quite as forceful here, and after a while it settled into the mud. It would probably stay there until the mud turned to rock and incased it for eternity.
An unknown amount of time passed before a freshman college student and his friends happened across the cave entrance. Loving the adventure of feeling as if they were the first people to discover something, the friends ventured into the cave armed only with their waterproof flashlights. Flashlights that at times needed a thump on a rock to be reminded that they were supposed to be waterproof. Some of the friends had been here before, but it was custom that people who had not been were given the privilege of discovering the cave's secrets on their own. The freshman of interest in this story, walked with the others towards the back of the cave, and after twenty yards or so, it appeared the cave went nowhere. As he looked around, he noticed that the water that filled the lower two feet of the cave seemed to come mostly out of one wall. Those who knew waited expectantly for the discovery they knew he would soon make: the cave went much further back, but only for the brave. The cave itself was easy to find. It was in a state park, and the trail sign that read "Cave Trail" pretty much told anyone with an IQ above 50 that there was a cave somewhere, and it was probably on the trail. However, this secret part was only available to the fearless. The rock jutted out, and with some dexterity one could tell that there was a hole near the floor of the cave. Again, as one that had not been here before, our freshman was permitted the honor of being first through the hole. He contorted his body, and lay on the floor with water running all around him. The hole only extended a little above the water, and with the bend in the channel an adventurous soul would have to push themselves through on his side. He stretched his long arms through the hole and verified that the wall only seemed to be about two feet thick, and there was definitely an opening beyond. His flashlight clenched tightly in his right hand, he began to scoot his way through the hole. One shoulder was above water, and his face was turned up so he could breathe. His left hand was grabbing rock to help push through, and his flashlight was deep under water. Beyond was complete blackness. At eighteen he still contained that reckless feeling of invincibility that seems to be in all teenagers, but his heart raced and he had to mentally face and suppress the flashes in his mind of all the possible consequences of his actions. His heart pounded, and his blood raced as he slowly inched his way through the hole. His hand would slip at times, and his face would go under water, but he was determined, and finally passed through to the other side. He found plenty of room for his head above water, and waited a few seconds before extracting his flashlight out of the muddy water to feel the absolute darkness on the other side. He finally moved out of the way, and waited for his friends to come through the opening. They followed the channel back until they absolutely could not fit anymore. on the sides of the channel, the cave extended back gradually decreasing in space until it closed into rock. Beautiful structures grew between the floor and the ceiling everywhere one looked away from the channel. They had no idea how far they had travelled back into the rock, but there was no danger of getting lost, as the channel only went one way. At the end, everyone turned out the lights, and experienced the most complete darkness one can. They forced their breathing as slow as possible until the only sounds was the slow trickle of water around them. It was a wonderful experience.
The time had come, however, to begin the trek back to daylight. The troupe returned as they had come, and started back through the hole. The rolls of honor had all been spent, so exodus was handled first come - first served. Knowing what was ahead, and feeling confident, our freshman handed his flashlight to the person in front of him, and started crawling out. As he pushed through the mud, his hand came to rest on something solid and mobile. His hand clenched to the object, and he proceeded out with it tight in his hands. For the first time since its conception countless millenia ago, the fallen stalagmite saw the light of day.
Knowing that he shouldn't, but unable to release his prize, our freshman kept it. For the next eighteen years, he kept it safe and in a place of honor. He moved countless times from one place to another until he found himself living in a small house in the Santa Cruz mountains with his daughter. After rebuilding his study, the stalagmite was placed on top of a wood box that his father had made, and was brought down only to show the worthy, and the story was retold.
Today, he decided to do that again. His daughter's class was learning about rocks and how they were made, and it had been a while since he had gone to talk to the class about science. The teacher told the class that "Mr. Science" was going to talk with them about something (she herself didn't know what it would be - that's trust!). Surprisingly, every student was paying rapt attention to what the once freshman was going to say. He told the story of how cave structures were created, using an eye dropper that very, very slowly allowed a water drop to fall to his hands to demonstrate the amount of time it took for something like this to happen. The kids were enthralled and enthusiastic when the guest of honor was shown. He told them that he was going to leave it on the table for them to look at and touch, but they had to be very, very, very careful with it, because of how special it was to him.
The stalagmite survived the whole day. His daughter decided she should bring it home, because he had not made it clear as he had done with other things that he would pick it up the following day or so. She didn't put it in her backpack where it would be safe, but opted to carry it in hopes that others would see it and want to come talk about it. As she walked across the playground, she dropped it.
It broke in half.
Millenia in the making, eighteen years under careful care, it broke from about a three foot fall onto blacktop.
Very ticked amateur spelunker...