Lots of mysteries lately, I know. I’ve been dealing with the mystery of Franklin Falls. It’ll be easy, sez I. Snoqualmie Batholith and some hornfels, sez I. Nothing simpler, sez I. Then I had to go and ask the question, “Well, what was the hornfels before it was hornfels?” And this is where my best laid plans for a sweet and simple geology post went gang aft agley. Of course they did. They always do. Because I keep asking questions and haven’t got answers until after a long chase through ninety-seven thousand pages of search results.
Anyway. Coming soon. In the meantime, mysteries! Here’s a little delight from our Franklin Falls trip.
Little white flower, dark little flying thing. Nice contrast. And if you look a bit closer, you’ll see it’s up against a very nice example of the granodiorite of the Snoqualmie Batholith.
Never you mind that green tint – the Snoqualmie granodiorite isn’t green, it’s just the ubiquitous life getting all over everything here on the wet side of the Cascades. This is why I expect we’ll find life on other worlds with liquid water. Add water, and shit seems to grow everywhere in copious quantites.
Our cryptopod was kind enough to pose for a profile shot. Wasp-waisted, isn’t it? Very buff shoulders, or whatever you call that segment above the other segment. Don’t mind me. Head’s full o’ rocks and ice, very little room left for technical terms for squidgy living things.
There’s a rather nice view of our cryptopod’s top side, and our mystery flower’s weird sort of middle bits. Interesting, that flower. I hope it has some awesome Latin name, like our Oplopanax horridus.
Back to ye olde trek through numerous sources for me. In the meantime, I’ve got two requests: if anyone has tips for identifying what hornfels might have been in their past life, I’d love ‘em. And I’ve got about eleventy-trillion photos of skunk cabbage to post for the aficionados, but not a bloody thing left to say. Help me come up with clever things to say about skunk cabbage, my darlings. Poetry, songs, recipes, terrible encounters with their stench, whatever comes to mind.Then we can have our skunk cabbage, but I’m hoping we won’t eat it, too.