Last weekend, Kazakhstan celebrated Constitution Day. Rather than stick around for the festivities in the florid Capital city, some friends and I ventured out West to Mangystau, to the deserts flanking the Caspian Sea. Although much of the area is sprawling, barren desert, it’s geologically much more interesting than my home here in the White Tomb.
The purpose of the trip was ostensibly holiday, but in landscapes such as this my field training kicks in. While I made sure to take in the scenic views, my gaze was mostly directed downward, as on survey, in search for bones, lithics and other signs of paleontological promise.
One thing about Life is that it teems. I don’t mean the obvious, ubiquitous microbes or infinitesimal infestations on all our faces. Even the big stuff can thrive, even in seemingly inhospitable places.
But what goes up must come down, the only promise is The End. As a result of this shared fate, many of the landscapes we encountered were literally littered with the bony remnants previous denizens. Sun-scorched and bleached, the calling cards of Tetrapods stuck out like sore thumbs among the dirt and scrub.
But this surface smorgasbord of bones will not translate into a future fossil festival. Sitting on the surface, bones like these are likely to be scattered, trampled, disturbed by anthropology nerds. Most will not get the chance to sink into the Earth, soak up leaching minerals, and lie in wait for paleontologists of the future. In desert landscapes such as in Mangystau, ‘osteology everywhere’ is an ephemeral description.