Even The Tumblr Gods Can’t Kill Me

The plan was to go there friday, but as you recall, I got lost in the forest looking for cool rocks and there just wasn’t time. So I took the detour on my way back.

Here is the setting. We are at the bottom of a disused quarry. We took an hour detour and walked here for a little while and maybe you don’t really know why I’m excited yet.

At first, unless you’re a geology geek (I am not, btw), you might just be thinking, ah, rocks.

But what if we move closer?

Okay, big slab of rock. Some cracks and pockets in it. And?

Come even closer.

What’s the big deal? It’s just a rock with some marks in it. It looks so boring and ordinary and why did I even drag you to this quarry and am making you look at boring rocks?

Because. COME CLOSER.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING AT?

TOUCH THE LITTLE ROUND MARKS IN THE ROCK. PUT YOUR HAND OVER THEM AND FEEL THE RUSH OF HISTORY.

I AM SORRY TO BE YELLING BUT I AM VERY EXCITED.

YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE FOSSILISED FOOTPRINTS OF…

OUR ANCESTOR!

OKAY OKAY I had to add the meme for effect BUT this wouldn’t be the one in the picture, who is still a fish with fins. The tracks belong to a creature with four legs : A TETRAPOD!

Who may have looked and walked like this:

YES!!!!!These little pocks in the rock are footprints that show the path of a tetrapod crawling out of the sea, and they are approximately 495 million years old!!!

Why did the tetrapod come out of the water? Well, apparently there were invertebrates to feed on, and they left marks too:

The tracks I saw are in Zachełmie in Poland :

and are a fairly recent discovery from 2010 so scientists are still arguing about what they mean for evolution history, but they ARE real.

Established relationship fluff with a side of misunderstandings / rated T / 1.7k

Steve has one hand threaded through Eddie’s hair, the other slipped under Eddie’s shirt, not moving, just resting on the warm skin of Eddie’s stomach, thumb occasionally brushing the edge of his ribs. Eddie’s head is pillowed on Steve’s stomach, and he’s flipping through an issue of Heavy Metal. Every now and then, he makes a remark on one of the stories, partly to Steve, mostly to himself.

It’s the only sound aside from Queen playing softly in the background and their deep, even breathing. It’s peaceful. Nice.

Shafts of light dance over the room as a sweetly cool breeze flutters the curtains. One catches on a small glass bottle sitting on Steve’s dresser. It reminds him there’s something he’s been wanting to ask Eddie for a while now:

“How come you don’t bring me stuff anymore?”