A Tree through Time

 By  Steven Wade Veatch

Thirty-four million years ago on a dismal Eocene afternoon near present-day Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument in central Colorado, woodland creatures fled as the ground shook from a fiery power held deep within the Earth. This dark force manifested on the surface, where toxic gases, ash, and molten rock shot through open vents —filling the air. A red glow painted the sky as cinders rained down through the smoky, sulfurous air onto the landscape. Flows of searing lava, which can reach 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit, oozed from volcanic vents, burning everything in their path. 

Following this concentrated chaos, hot ash and mud raced down the slopes of several volcanoes. Swirling mudflows pulled in surface materials, knocked down and carried small trees with their root wads, and then surrounded the bases of towering redwood trees. 

After frequent periods of active eruptions, the volcanic complex ultimately quieted down to dormancy and peaceable extinction. The mud that encased the bases of the redwoods enabled the slow petrification process to begin. The wayward mudflow also dammed a prehistoric stream and quickly formed a lake. Plants, insects, and other organisms were trapped in the lake sediments. As time passed, the lake sediments turned into shale containing fossils of these organisms.

Today, enormous redwoods grow at their ecological limit in a narrow zone along the California and Oregon coasts. Redwoods still exist at the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument, but only as fossil leaves, cones, or petrified stumps. It would be impossible for redwoods to grow today in Florissant’s cool, temperate highland climate. Redwoods reached towering heights in Florissant’s Eocene past, when the climate was warm and temperate.

* * *

There is a remarkable site at the monument where a singular fossil redwood stump endures despite the unavoidable and inexorable power of erosion and weathering. This petrified redwood base is unique among the others: It has a ponderosa pine tree growing from its stone center. I have always been spellbound by this juxtaposed image—the prehistoric stone stump with a living ponderosa tree growing out of it. I wanted to look at it again and make a deeper connection with this geological marvel. 

A living ponderosa pine tree grows
 from an ancient redwood that has turned
to stone. Photo date 2013 by S. S. Veatch.

As I walked on a trail to its location, Pikes Peak loomed in the distance. I passed a long, low, grass-covered meadow bounded by treed hills.  A green swath of lichen-capped rocks fringed the trail. As I neared the scene I sensed a weight to the afternoon: windy weather brought a grey, clouded sky that rolled over the land. The warm, heavy smell of rain soon rose from the wet and glistening forest floor. Glittering drops of water rested on leaves. The wind began to whistle through the trees while flowers of sky-blue flax nodded. As the rain clouds broke up, an elk wandered this high stretch of land while a coyote trotted by. 

A blue flax blossom at the Florissant Fossil Beds
National Monument. Photo date 2003 by S. W. Veatch.

When I reached the fossil redwood, I sat down on a bench to soak in the experience.  As I looked at this remarkable remnant of a primeval redwood I noticed patches of soft, velvety, emerald green moss gripping sections of the petrified stump. There are small forest sounds: a bird chirps in the distance while a chickadee croons a love song from a place deeper than daydreams. A jay scolds me from the safety of a high branch overhead. There are little rustlings in a tree behind me where a black, tufted eared Abert’s squirrel worries a pinecone. These sights, sounds, and smells make me content, and mark this natural place as special. 

* * *

Fossils are the letters that form words in a geologic story.  Together, these words complete the pages of the area’s paleontological record: messages from a distant time telling a story of plants and animals that once lived here and are now gone. The pages document the broader climate and the ecosystem it supported. Most importantly, these intimate histories—written in stone— yield a narrative of how an ecosystem responds to climate change. The Eocene marks the start of a gradual global cooling.

The secrets of deep time are exposed in fossils on pine covered hills and grassy meadows of Florissant.  At the Florissant Fossil Beds lie some of the world’s richest fossil deposits, remnants of life ranging in size from a tiny grain of pollen to massive redwood trees. Time is no longer the trickster under Florissant’s vast summer sky; instead, time is captured as a memory in each fossil and is brought forward to the present, where these vital fossils reveal a primeval Eocene ecosystem. I immersed myself in its story.  

Big Stump at the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument.
Photo date 2020 by S. W. Veatch.