SpaceMika

Last year, I celebrated by knitting in the sun and cheering on a rubber ducky.

The bluffs of Barwon Heads are aeolian calcarnite — solidified sand dunes. As rain fell on the sand dunes, the top surface is cemented as calcrete. More dunes formed on top, and more, and more, with layers of hardened calcrete topping each set of dunes. Now, those hardened layers act as failure planes, leaving hazardous overhangs.

Coastlines are landscapes of constant change. Near Wonthaggi, Australia, the shore is stabilized by extensive rock platforms and high rock-cored sand dunes. Small erosion patterns etch into the sand as the ebbing tide drains off the beach, and a river mouth periodically opens and seals from longshore drift, but luckily for the proposed desalination plant behind the dunes, for a dynamic environment the coast is relatively stable.

At Settlement Point east of Melbourne, extensive basalts and tuffs of the Older Volcanics form the cliffs and shore platforms. The spherical weathering occurs as water penetrates along joints and fractures, decaying the rock layer by layer like onion skin. At this site, the weathering has progressed until basalt cobbles are encased in fully decomposed clay.

The white sands of Friendly Beach, Tasmania, Tasmania, squeak under every step. The sand is nearly pure silica, originating in quartz-baring rocks, eroded into sand, compacted into sandstone, and re-eroded into fine, smooth, rounded grains. The black rock shore platforms are part of an extensive dolerite formation dating to the breakup of Gondwanaland. The dolerite is weathering into tiles with a honeycomb texture.

Scopimera inflata is an artist among crabs, creating beautiful patterns of tiny sand spheres while foraging for food. The crab scuttles from its hole, and begins rolling balls while sucking any algae and other nutritious goodies from the sand. The territory of each crab (and the extent of its patterns) changes each tide as the waves wash away the old sandy bubbles and deposit whole new worlds of microscopic food to devour; although the foraging patterns are non-ideal on a small, short scale, the beauty of sand bubble art optimizes for food for over larger areas and longer times.

Traces from the Sand Bubbler Crabs of Queensland.

I decided against submitting the crab art for the geology photography contest. They are trace fossils and biological cementing of sandy conglomerates and demonstrate dynamic geology over very short time scales, and I still think they’re pretty, but it’s hard to pick just one photo!

I wrote this during my ridiculously long stopover at LAX (I was overly generous in allotting myself time for immigration, baggage claim, customs, re-depositing baggage, re-checking in, and security).

Being in the US again is really strange, yet comforting. The PA announcer voices are so nasal they sound like someone mocking the American accent. People speak Spanish, not Italian.

After getting spoiled by all-fancy-coffee-drinks-for-the-price-of-filter in Melbourne, I couldn’t bare to pay a premium for a coffee-based drink and got something tea-based instead. It was downright startling to realize tax wasn’t included in price, and I swear the American $5 bill has been updated since last time I saw one.

I’ve had quite a few pleasant conversations this journey so far. The man next to me for my long flight was mostly incredibly quiet, but we started talking when he asked for help reading his customs form (he spoke fluent English, but was more comfortable reading in French). He, too, is heading home after 6 months in Melbourne (with side trips to Sidney) where he was visiting extended quasi-family. We shared a giggle over noticing the absence of green visa-cards in all the rows surrounding us and the heavy use of “eh” and concluding we were a pack of misplaced moose heading home.

I’m falling into a practiced swing of explaining my journey, I’ve been asked so often. I’ve been in Australia for six months, exploring the country, playing with rocks, and meeting my boyfriend’s family. I had a great time, but I’m very excited to be home again, and to see my family. The gate staff for my final flight leg sympathised with my desire to get home, and seated me as far forward in the plane as she could, on an aisle seat, so I can be one of the very first ones off and through customs and get home those few minutes faster.

I’ve had some funny conversations with the customs officers. One was deeply curious as to why I was travelling with cleaned rocks of no economic value (“I’m a geologist! Collecting rock samples is what we do!”), another admired the handwriting on the address label of my box, and one wished me and my Monkey a safe journey.

My small plush Monkey is causing quite a stir. He’s been traveling by poking his nose out of my knitting bag, hands carefully tucked through the handle of my laptop case to prevent him from spilling out unnoticed. When I departed the Land of Oz, Elka commented on his pose being that of an exceptionally well-behaved child. On my intercontinental flight, he spent most of it perched on my lap, and at one stage attracted the cooing of a flight attendant who pet his tiny nose before moving down the aisle to attend to her duties. While checking in for the last leg of my flights, an elderly gentleman in line behind me asked permission to introduce himself to the Monkey; I think his poor eyesight may have deceived him into perceiving an actual small child or animal poking out of my bag. Un-dissuaded by the realization of Monkey’s plush nature, the elderly man called out a goodbye to us as we left the line for the upper reaches of security check-in. Finally, as I settled myself in my gate’s lounge to get some work done in the remaining five hours of my layover, an elderly woman initiated conversation with, “So, what’s the story with the monkey?” We then chatted about computers (she left the workforce right as they were being introduced, so knows nothing of them), knitting (our mutual dissatisfaction with the knitting-needle ban, and showing off finished objects), and the economic crises (particularly with the modern demand for her former profession, Collections).

Everyone is commenting on my hats. Some staff are asking why I have so many hats, others think the two-layer stack is one highly unique hats; most fellow travelers give me a double-take, then a nod of recognition as they figure out it’s a hat-transportation method. A lovely Canadian woman responded to my “classically Aussie” self-depreciating comment on the jarring style of my hats with my outfit by telling me that I looked lovely and it was a unique style. This was later reinforced by another staffer, who declared it would make people notice me which was always a good thing. I started a side conversation with fellow-travelers about how I didn’t think it was necessarily a good thing to stand out in a crowd, especially when airport security is concerned…

I finally found the Australia answer to the Canadian quarantine advertisement. The 30-second tv ad isn’t online yet as far as I can tell, and isn’t nearly as cute, but the animated bug is fairly adorable.

Australia is very creative about raising awareness. May 15th is Loud Shirt Day to support deaf children.

Canberra is the capital of Australia, a little city carved out as its own semi-state, an Australian Capital Territory of similar concept but larger ground area than DC. The city is fully planned, which makes it hilarious that it’s so hard to get around if you’re a tourist. The city plan is a large triangle with circle-radial roads off each point, and each arm is a significant walk. The students get around by cycling; the city is almost perfectly flat and has broad roads with low traffic, so it’s an ideal solution.

When prowling the city today, I got hopelessly lost and accidentally found myself repeatedly. I don’t think I managed to get into the parliamentary triangle, but if I did I certainly didn’t recognize it.

Australia National University

The university campus (ANU) is beautiful. The smell of fall is in the air, and the hordes of students bustling between classes and cramming for exams makes me feel at home. I strayed into the New and Fancy Architecture section of campus, and sorely regretted my lack of camera. Some of my favourites are the Australian Phenomics Facility, Hedley Bull Centre (where I tried to hassle my hostess while she worked, but failed because I couldn’t see her hiding behind the coffee machine), and some fancy half-ball of a building that I’m not finding photos of at the moment.