Sneaky Snake and Fossils

If you look at things the right way, you have many more adventures than you might otherwise.  The other day, for example, Miss Sadie, the Cowboy and I were strolling along the beach when we saw a Sea Serpent making its way toward Grand Traverse Bay.

We thought it might be Sneaky Snake, beloved of Rob the Firefighter when he was about four or five.

Boys and girls take warning, if you go near the lake
Keep your eyes wide open, and look for Sneaky Snake
Now maybe you won’t see him, maybe you won’t hear
But he’ll sneak up behind you, and drink all your root beer . . .

(From Tom T. Hall’s Songs of Fox Hollow for Children of All Ages)

Upon close inspection, we saw that it was a beach chair buried in snow.

Then we found mysterious polka dots on the snow.

We could see they were tracks, but they were inverted. Instead of making indentations, they rose above the snow like carved rosettes. Very close up they looked like Spritz Cookies, or—if you’re less hungry—like the pawprints of the gray fox. Or maybe just Miss Sadie. I could go either way.

I’ve seen the phenomenon before.  A critter steps into wet sand or snow, compressing it. Then the sand or snow freezes. The compressed part freezes harder than the looser material around it.  Later the wind blows away everything but the deep-frozen tracks.

I wonder if that’s how fossils are formed. I wonder if someday thousands of years from now some archaeologist will carefully brush ancient dust from a trail made by a medium sized canine, a smaller canine with furry feet, and a larger creature whose oval paw-pads are criss-crossed by some kind of spiral. What on earth will the archaeologist make of my YakTrax? It’s fun to think about anyway.