Doctor Who, the long running BBC science fiction
series, features a marvelous creation at its core – a time traveling vehicle
designed to blend in with the time and place to which it moves. Two aspects of this time machine, known as the
TARDIS (time and relative dimension in space), raise it to the level of sheer
genius. First, it suffers from a malfunction, regardless of where and
when it arrives, it’s stuck in the form of an English police call box (think
phone booth, if you’re old enough to remember phone booths) from 1963. But, for me, the most powerful aspect of this
conceit is that the TARDIS is much larger (indeed, approaching infinite) on the
inside than it is on the outside. Apparently,
the bounded exterior dimensions are belied by different interior dimensions. Thus, this call box offers the time traveler
myriad rooms, a cricket pavilion, swimming pools, . . . . (A quick guide to the TARDIS can be found on
the Doctor Who homepage on the BBC
website. Despite loving the concept of
the TARDIS, I must admit that I am not a Doctor
Who devotee.)
The description of the TARDIS is necessary context for the
fossil shell from the gastropod Ampullella
parisiensis (d’Orbigny, 1850) shown below.
This gift from a friend dates from the Bartonian Age (40 to 37 million
years ago) in the Eocene Epoch and was found in the Guepelle Formation, near
Survilliers, northeast of Paris. (It is just a little less than an inch in height (apex to aperture).)
Without question, this shell was a TARDIS. Yes, it had traveled in time. But that’s a prosaic claim in the face of
what I discovered on the inside, where clearly other dimensions held sway.
As the picture below of the aperture shows, this fossil as I received
it was filled with yellowish sand (and so much more).
After delicately extracting this matrix (roughly a 1/4th
teaspoon’s worth), I began to explore this fill and an ever expanding Eocene world
opened up before me. Infinite? Hardly, but, without question, the riches in
these few pinches of material made the shell’s inside seem so much larger, so
much deeper, than its outside. (I would like
to think that the material that, over the years, came to rest inside the shell
is all Eocene in age, but I recognize that more recent or, perhaps even older, bits
of stuff might have intruded, as well.)
It was evident from the outset that, amid the quartz
fragments of the matrix, would be several “large” shells. I separated these from the sandy matrix. A few appear in the picture below.
Among the several gastropod shells is another,
smaller Ampullella parisiensis (upper
right in the picture above). The glistening white, curved tube is, I believe, from some species of the gastropod Dentalium. There are two shells from bivalves shown in
the picture, one with a hole drilled into it by some miniature predator. (My initial efforts to identify these shells
has taken me to Cyril Baudouin’s fine website, which features fossil shells
from France by geological period. Unfortunately,
most of mine don’t appear to be reflected in the Bartonian specimens he
features.)
One of the two crab claw fragments in the mix is quite
striking.
At the microscopic level, my horizons within this Ampullella parisiensis stretched and
twisted. There amid the bits of quartz I
found my favorite microfossils – minute shells from foraminifera (protists) and
ostracodes (crustaceans). Though I’ve
only just begun to work through this fill, several dozen forams have made an
appearance, along with twenty or so ostracodes.
The adjective “fossiliferous” legitimately applies to this material.
By far, the most common of the forams in this material look like vertical, nested bits of braided twine.
This shape comes in several subtle variations (e.g., some
have vertical striations, others are relatively smooth). This broad group of forams, which dominates
numerically among the forams I’ve found here, may be from the genus Massilina which dates back to the
Eocene, though there are Massilina of
much more recent vintage than that.
I haven’t made any headway identifying the ostracodes that
tumbled out of the Ampullella. A group of small, kidney bean-shaped
specimens predominates.
I suspect I have more than one ostracode species or genus among those shown above, and, in all likelihood, have positioned some of them upside
down. (A method for conclusively determining
the dorsal/ventral orientation of an ostracode shell is to examine the hinges
on the interior of the shells because these animals’ shells are only hinged along
the dorsal margin. Unfortunately, I’ve
pushed my microscope to its limits and the hinges remain out of
visual reach.)
Finally, there was a moment as I worked through the material
that filled the Ampullella parisiensis
when I felt as though I’d been dropped into a fractal shape. Perhaps this was not surprising, since fractals and
the TARDIS both play with spatial dimensions.
Because it sets aside all of the complex mathematics that delineates a
fractal, I like the definition offered at one point by the father of fractal
geometry, Benoit Mandelbrot,
A fractal is a shape made of parts
similar to the whole in some way. (As quoted
in Fractals by Jens Feder, 1988, p.
11.)
Self-similarity, a defining characteristic of fractals, is one
of their most enticing, visual features. As you
examine a fractal shape at ever greater levels of magnification, patterns and
forms repeat themselves. You can literally get lost in a fractal shape, though familiar worlds reappear endlessly. (There are many
fractal generators available on the web that allow you to peer into ever small
parts of this geometric space to find those repeating worlds.)
There was self-similarity in the Ampullella parisiensis shell.
When I began to empty the matrix from this shell, the tiny A. parisiensis shell emerged (seen in a photo
above). More to the point, this shell was filled
with the yellow sandy matrix. Wonderful
repetition, one level in. Unfortunately,
I let the small shell’s contents mix with everything else on the sorting
tray. Perhaps even smaller shells had been hidden inside, perhaps ostracodes and forams fell out. Certainly not an endless succession of ever smaller A. parisiensis shells with matrix, still, it was a wonderful hint of the fractal.
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