I begin with apologies. iPhoto is still giving me fits, and though I spent a good part of yesterday at the Apple store trying to get iPhoto to behave, whatever fix they did will (may) solve the problem going forward. Any photos I took prior to yesterday are subject to the random feistiness or cooperation of iPhoto. Of course all of the photos I took for International Rock Flipping Day were taken before yesterday, so I had to use a work around that they showed me. At least, apparently, I haven’t lost any photos, though sizing them is a challenge. But you go to the blog with the photos you have.
The cricket you see above was hiding under a rock in the gravel near the cabin. It was the only live thing I found in all of my flipping. Immediately below it in the photo you can see some brown rocks. Those are stained with rust. Somewhere among them is a bit of iron pyrite. The last load of gravel the men put on the parking pad behind the cabin contained many iron pyrite pebbles, and as they’ve gotten wet over the years, they’ve rusted.
I found this old cache of acorns that some critter had hidden beneath a large rock across the lake. The rock sits at the base of a very large black oak, and there is a hole in the trunk near the rock. I suspect the critter — perhaps a red squirrel — lives in that hole and keeps a larder under the rock. These acorns looked ragged, so it may be that no one has visited the supply recently.
Above is a little experiment I’ve been conducting at Roundrock. In past years, I acquired the orange spoon and white fork you see here. I was told that they were biodegradable, and I wanted to see that in action. So I placed them under a paving stone before the cabin. This was several years ago. In fact, I think it was before I even had the cabin, so that would have to be at least three years. Before this I had screwed a similar spoon to the trunk of a tree where it would be exposed to the elements. Aside from a critter gnawing on it, the spoon showed no sign of degrading. Someone then said that it would have worked better had the spoon been buried. Hence the experiment above. Nothing seems to have happened to the spoon and the fork. Maybe I’m thinking in too short a term.
As I roamed my woods that rainy Saturday in search of likely rocks to flip, I saw another fellow out there, also flipping the occasional rock, though rooting among them seemed to be its preferred approach. The armadillo let me get quite close. It regarded me and then went about its business, nonplussed by my presences. It was small, so I guess it was too young to understand the “danger” of humans. Plus it was busy rooting out something that it devoured with haste. I think the wet weather put a lot of food within its reach that hadn’t been available through much of the summer drought.
To see these photos as well as photos by many other people who actually know what they’re doing, head over to the Flickr page devoted to flipped rocks.