WHAT IS A FOSSIL? A MESSAGE FROM DEEP TIME

Pick up a fossil and you are holding evidence of a life.

Not merely an old rock. Not an attractive geological paperweight. Not something the Earth made solely to tempt us into climbing unstable slopes in inappropriate footwear.

A fossil is a message from the past.

It may be a bone, tooth, shell or leaf. It may be the delicate impression of a feather, the tunnel left by a burrowing animal or the footprints of a creature that crossed a muddy shoreline hundreds of millions of years ago.

It may even be fossilized dung.

The fossil record has never been overly concerned with dignity.

Together, fossils preserve the history of life on Earth: its astonishing experiments, spectacular successes, evolutionary detours and occasional catastrophes. They introduce us to organisms no human ever saw alive and to ecosystems that vanished long before our own species appeared.

But what exactly qualifies as a fossil—and how can something as fleeting as a footprint survive for millions of years?

Let us begin at the beginning.

SO, WHAT IS A FOSSIL?

Dinosaur Footprints near Tumbler Ridge, BC

A fossil is naturally preserved evidence of past life. That definition is deliberately broad because life leaves evidence in many different ways.

A fossil can be part of an organism’s body, such as a bone, tooth, shell, leaf or piece of wood. It can also be a mark made by an organism while it was alive: a footprint, burrow, feeding trail, nest or bite mark.

The organism itself does not necessarily need to be present.

This is one of the most important things to understand about fossils. We often picture a magnificent dinosaur skeleton standing in a museum, every rib neatly arranged and every tooth poised for drama. Yet complete skeletons are extraordinarily rare. Most fossils are fragments: a single tooth, part of a shell, a scrap of leaf, one vertebra or a dark smudge of carbon in the rock.

Some fossils are so small that thousands could sit comfortably on the head of a pin. Others belong to animals that stretched longer than a city bus.

All of them are evidence.

We divide fossils into two major categories: body fossils and trace fossils. The distinction is simple, but it opens the door to an astonishing variety of preservation.

BODY FOSSILS: WHEN PART OF THE ORGANISM REMAINS

A body fossil preserves part of the organism itself—or a direct impression, mould or cast of its remains.

The most familiar body fossils include:

• Bones
• Teeth
• Shells
• Exoskeletons
• Scales
• Wood
• Leaves
• Seeds
• Pollen
• Spores

Cenoceras Fossilized Shell Material

Hard parts are much more likely to enter the fossil record because they resist decay longer than soft tissues. Teeth are especially durable. A vertebrate animal may lose and replace thousands of teeth during its lifetime, greatly improving the odds that at least a few will survive long enough to become fossils.

This is one reason isolated fossil teeth are much more common than complete fossil animals. Nature produces teeth generously and skeletons only once per customer.

Shells also have an excellent chance of preservation. Ancient seafloors could accumulate the remains of countless brachiopods, molluscs, corals and other marine organisms. Over time, those shells became part of the sediment and, eventually, part of the rock itself.

The most durable portions of an organism dominate the fossil record. According to the National Park Service overview of body fossils, bones, teeth, shells, mineralized plates and wood are preserved far more frequently than skin, organs, flowers or fruit.

This creates an immediate problem.

The fossil record is not a complete census of everything that ever lived. It has a built-in preference for organisms with hard parts, those living in places where burial could occur and those fortunate enough to die under favourable conditions.

A clam living on a muddy seafloor has a better chance of becoming a fossil than a soft-bodied creature living on a windswept mountain. This does not mean the mountain creature was less important. It was simply less likely to leave us its forwarding address. We find many more of the durable creatures than we do the squishy. 

TRACE FOSSILS: WHEN BEHAVIOUR BECOMES STONE

Theropod Track, Thailand

Trace fossils preserve evidence of what an organism did rather than the organism’s actual body.

They are also called ichnofossils, from the Greek word ichnos, meaning track or trace. Scientists who specialize in studying them are called ichnologists.

Trace fossils include:

• Footprints and trackways
• Burrows and tunnels
• Trails
• Resting impressions
• Nests
• Root traces
• Feeding marks
• Bite marks
• Borings in shells or wood
• Coprolites, or fossilized dung
• Regurgitated material
• Gastroliths associated with an animal

A body fossil can tell us that an organism existed. A trace fossil may reveal what it was doing.

A line of footprints can show whether an animal walked on two legs or four. The distance between prints can help researchers estimate speed. Several parallel trackways may suggest that animals moved together, although such interpretations must be made carefully.

A burrow can reveal how an animal moved through sediment, searched for food or protected itself. Bite marks can document interactions between predator and prey. A resting impression can preserve the outline of an animal settling momentarily onto a soft surface.

Trace fossils often remain in the substrate where the behaviour originally occurred. Unlike bones, which may be carried away by water, scavengers or gravity, a burrow generally records activity at that exact location.

This gives trace fossils an extraordinary quality. They preserve moments. An animal stepped here. A worm burrowed here. Something bit this shell.

A dinosaur crossed this stretch of wet sediment, placing one foot after another beneath a sky no human would ever see. The animal continued on. The moment passed. But the ground remembered.

YES, FOSSILIZED POO IS A REAL FOSSIL

Coprolites are fossilized faeces, and they are among some of our most personal treasures.

They vary enormously in size and appearance. Some resemble pellets, spirals or lumpy stones. Others are difficult to distinguish from ordinary rock without examining their shape, contents or chemical composition.

Coprolites can preserve:

• Bone fragments
• Fish scales
• Plant fibres
• Seeds
• Pollen
• Insect remains
• Parasite eggs
• Chemical evidence of diet

They can help researchers determine whether an animal ate meat, plants, insects, fish—or almost anything unfortunate enough to fit inside it.

The difficulty lies in identifying the producer. Unless a coprolite is found directly associated with a particular animal, assigning it to a species can be challenging. Size, shape, contents and geological context may narrow the possibilities, but we must resist the temptation to point dramatically at every ancient dropping and declare, “Tyrannosaurus!”

Not every large coprolite came from the most famous carnivore available.

Still, fossilized dung offers something bones alone cannot: evidence of a meal passing through an animal’s digestive system. Coprolites are trace fossils that can provide direct clues about ancient diets.

One creature’s private moment has become everyone’s scientific business. Deep time can be terribly indiscreet.

DOES A FOSSIL HAVE TO BE TURNED TO STONE?

No. “Fossil” describes evidence of past life, not one particular style of preservation.

Some fossils are petrified or mineralized. Others preserve original material. Fossils can occur as impressions, carbon films, moulds, casts or remains trapped in substances such as amber, tar or ice.

Let us look at a few possibilities.

Permineralized Fossils

Bones and wood contain microscopic spaces. After burial, mineral-rich water may move through the sediment and deposit minerals inside those spaces.

This process is called permineralization.

The original structure may remain while its pores become filled with minerals such as silica, calcite or iron compounds. The result is denser and heavier than the original material but can preserve remarkable internal detail.

Petrified wood is a beautiful example. Its tissues may become mineralized so precisely that growth rings and cellular structures remain visible.

Replacement Fossils

In some fossils, the original biological material dissolves and is gradually replaced by minerals. The new mineral preserves the form—and sometimes even the microscopic structure—of the original organism.

It is rather like replacing a building one brick at a time while somehow retaining its shape.

Moulds and Casts

Imagine a shell buried in sediment.

The sediment hardens around it, but the shell later dissolves, leaving an empty impression. This cavity is a mould. If minerals or sediment later fill that mould and harden, they create a cast: a three-dimensional replica of the original shell.

An internal mould can form when sediment fills the inside of a shell and hardens before the shell disappears. Such fossils are sometimes called steinkerns, a German term meaning “stone kernel.”

Nothing of the original shell may remain, yet its shape survives. The body is gone. The absence has become the fossil. 

Compression and Carbon Films

McAbee Fossil Plants

Plants and soft-bodied organisms may be buried and flattened beneath accumulating sediment. Pressure drives away liquids and gases, sometimes leaving a thin film rich in carbon.

These fossils can appear as dark, delicate outlines on the rock. Leaves may preserve their veins. 

Fish may retain the shapes of scales and fins. Soft-bodied animals can sometimes be recorded in astonishing detail.

They are the geological equivalent of silhouettes—life pressed into stone. Some of the lovely specimens we find at the Eocene McAbee Fossil Beds near Cache Creek, British Columbia, are a great example.

Amber Preservation

Amber begins as sticky resin produced by ancient trees. Small organisms such as insects, spiders, mites and fragments of plants can become trapped in the resin. As the resin is buried and chemically altered over time, it becomes amber.

Amber can preserve extraordinary detail: hairs, wings, compound eyes and delicate structures that would normally decay rapidly.

It can even preserve tiny moments of behaviour. Organisms have been found trapped while feeding, mating, carrying pollen or interacting with parasites.

Amber is not a perfect time capsule, however, and it has not provided usable dinosaur DNA. The mosquitoes of Jurassic Park remain unemployed. If you are looking for some superb examples of amber preservation, check out the collection of Harry Tabiner in the UK. He has a remarkable eye and enviable collection, which he shares online.

Ice, Dryness and Natural Tar 

Cold, arid or oxygen-poor conditions can dramatically slow decay. Mammoths preserved in frozen ground may retain hair, skin, muscle and stomach contents. Natural tar deposits can preserve vast collections of bones, although the remains themselves may be stained, altered or compressed.

These forms of preservation remind us that a fossil does not need to resemble a traditional stone skeleton. Fossilization is not a single recipe. It is a vast collection of unlikely outcomes.

WHAT ABOUT FOOTPRINTS? HOW CAN A HOLE BECOME A FOSSIL?

A footprint fossil begins with a perfectly ordinary step.

An animal walks across a surface soft enough to receive an impression but firm enough to retain its shape. Mud and damp sand are excellent candidates.

The track must then be buried before wind, waves, rain, other animals or enthusiastic members of the herd destroy it. A new layer of sediment settles over the surface, filling and protecting the impression.

With continued burial, both layers may harden into rock. Millions of years later, erosion separates them again. One surface may preserve the original footprint as a depression. The layer that filled the print may preserve a raised natural cast.

Tracks are not simply stamps of the foot. The animal’s weight can deform layers beneath the surface, producing structures known as undertracks. These may be less anatomically precise than the original print but can still record the passage of the animal.

Interpreting tracks requires caution. Wetness, sediment texture, erosion and the animal’s movement can all alter a footprint’s appearance. The same animal could leave surprisingly different tracks after walking only a short distance.

We must study the track, the sediment and the entire trackway—not merely find three vaguely pointed marks and immediately summon the media.

HOW OLD DOES SOMETHING HAVE TO BE BEFORE IT BECOMES A FOSSIL?

You may have heard that a fossil must be at least 10,000 years old.

That figure is commonly used as a practical dividing line in educational materials and some regulatory contexts, but nature has not installed an official fossil clock that rings at midnight on an organism’s ten-thousandth birthday.

We may use terms such as subfossil for relatively recent remains that are not fully fossilized or that retain considerable original material. The terminology can vary depending on the field, material and legal jurisdiction.

Age alone is not the only consideration. Geological context, preservation and scientific usage all matter.

An ammonite shell 100 million years old is unquestionably a fossil. A mammoth tusk 30,000 years old is also a fossil, even if some of its original material remains. Very recent bones from an archaeological site may be described as remains rather than fossils.

The boundary is useful, but it is not a magical transformation.

ARE ALL FOSSILS VISIBLE?

Not remotely. Some of the most important fossils on Earth are microscopic.

Microfossils include fossilized pollen, spores, algae, bacteria, protists and the tiny shells or skeletal elements of marine organisms.

They may be smaller than a grain of sand, yet they occur in enormous numbers and can be tremendously useful. Because some microscopic organisms evolved rapidly and lived across wide geographic areas, their fossils can help scientists date and correlate rock layers.

Microfossils also reveal ancient environments. Different species lived under different conditions, so their presence can provide clues about water depth, temperature, salinity, oxygen levels and climate.

Oil and gas exploration has long relied on micropalaeontology to interpret underground rock layers. A microscopic fossil no larger than a speck of dust may help identify the age and environment of rocks buried kilometres beneath the surface.

Dinosaurs receive the posters. Microfossils quietly organize geological time. Alas, always the bridesmaid, never the bride... Dinos get all the love.

CAN MOLECULES BE FOSSILS?

Ancient life can sometimes leave chemical evidence even when no recognizable body or trace remains.

These signals are often called chemical fossils or biomarkers.

Certain molecules are associated with particular groups of organisms or biological processes. Modified versions of those compounds may survive in ancient rocks, providing evidence that particular kinds of life were present.

Stable isotope patterns can also carry biological information. Living organisms use elements in ways that can leave characteristic chemical signatures in their tissues or surrounding sediments.

Chemical fossils require careful interpretation because geological heat, pressure and contamination can alter molecular evidence. But when combined with other data, they can help scientists investigate some of the earliest chapters in the history of life.

Sometimes life leaves a bone. Sometimes it leaves a footprint. Sometimes it leaves little more than chemistry.

IS A DINOSAUR SKELETON IN A MUSEUM MADE OF REAL FOSSILS?

Sometimes entirely. Sometimes partly. Sometimes hardly at all.

Complete dinosaur skeletons are rare. Museum mounts are often composites, combining fossil bones from more than one individual of the same species. Missing elements may be reconstructed as casts.

In some displays, the original fossils are too heavy, fragile or scientifically valuable to suspend in a dramatic pose. Museums may mount lightweight replicas while keeping the genuine fossils safely stored for research.

This does not make the display fake. A high-quality cast reproduces the shape and surface detail of the original fossil while protecting irreplaceable material. Casts can also be shared with museums, schools and researchers around the world.

Labels generally explain which elements are original fossils and which are reconstructed. It is always worth looking.

The glamorous skeleton towering over the gallery may be a carefully assembled ambassador for a far more fragmentary animal.

IS EVERY OLD BONE A FOSSIL?

No. Sometimes an old bone is just that, an old bone. Not a fossil. Age and appearance alone do not prove that something is fossilized. Modern bones can become stained by soil and minerals, making them look ancient. Conversely, genuine fossils do not always appear dramatically different from ordinary bone.

Identification may involve examining:

• Geological context
• Colour and density
• Surface texture
• Internal structure
• Mineral composition
• Associated fossils
• Degree of mineralization
• Evidence of recent organic material

And no, licking it is not the preferred scientific method but, I confess, it is helpful in the field. Not fully diagnostic, but helpful. I have a good friend Skippy who swears by it.

There is an old field trick based on the idea that porous fossil bone may stick slightly to the tongue, but modern bone can do the same, as can many ordinary rocks. The technique is unhygienic, unreliable and particularly regrettable when the mystery specimen is not bone at all.

Use a hand lens. Use comparative anatomy. Use laboratory analysis. Leave your tongue out of the peer-reviewed methodology.

WHY ARE FOSSILS SO RARE?

To become a fossil, an organism must pass through a series of improbable filters. Fossils are not rare per se, as I can think of localities with hundreds spread across the surface and more beneath, but they are rare in the sense that only a small percentage of the organisms that have lived have been preserved this way. To become a fossil is a bit of a process, as you might expect. 

First, the organism, dino, plant, or what have you, must die in a place where preservation is possible.

Then its remains must escape scavengers, decay, trampling, weather and destruction. They must be buried. The sediment must remain intact as it becomes rock. The fossil must survive heat, pressure, chemical alteration, faulting, erosion and the slow recycling of Earth’s crust.

Finally, it must become exposed—or be reached by excavation—at precisely the right time for someone to recognize it. Too early, and it remains buried. Too late, and erosion destroys it.

The fossil record is therefore both magnificent and profoundly incomplete.

Most organisms that ever lived left no known fossil. Entire species may have appeared, flourished and vanished without preserving a trace that we have yet discovered.

Soft-bodied organisms are especially underrepresented. Environments such as mountains, forests and tropical soils generally offer fewer opportunities for long-term preservation than lakes, river floodplains and marine sediments.

When we reconstruct ancient ecosystems, we are working with survivors of a second kind—not organisms that survived extinction, but evidence that survived geology.

IS A FOSSIL THE SAME THING AS A ROCK?

A fossil is preserved within a geological material, and many fossils have been heavily mineralized, but “fossil” and “rock” are not interchangeable terms.

A rock forms through geological processes and may contain fossils. A fossil is evidence of past life preserved within rock, sediment, amber, ice or another natural context.

The distinction can become wonderfully complicated.

A fossil shell may retain original shell material. A petrified log may be almost entirely mineral. A mould contains none of the organism but preserves its shape. A trace fossil may consist entirely of disturbed sediment.

So, is a fossil a rock? Sometimes it has effectively become one. But what makes it a fossil is not simply its material. It is the biological information it carries.

WHAT CAN ONE FOSSIL TELL US?

Far more than its name. A fossil’s anatomy may reveal how an organism moved, fed or defended itself. Growth rings can record seasons or age. Microscopic wear on teeth may reveal diet. Bone injuries can preserve evidence of accidents, disease, combat and healing.

The surrounding sediment can tell us whether the organism lived in a river, desert, forest, lake or sea. Associated fossils help reconstruct the plants, animals and microorganisms sharing that environment.

Chemical analysis may reveal temperature, water conditions, migration or food-web relationships. Footprints may preserve speed and direction. Burrows can reveal oxygen levels in ancient sediments. Coprolites can contain the remains of a final meal.

Even the way a body was buried matters. Were the bones scattered by a river? Gnawed by scavengers? Transported by waves? Buried in a sudden flood?

The study of what happens to an organism between death, burial and discovery is called taphonomy. It helps palaeontologists separate evidence of how an animal lived from evidence of what happened after it died. A fossil is not simply an object. It is a scene containing clues.

WHAT IS NOT A FOSSIL?

Not every interesting pattern in rock was created by life.

Mineral crystals, concretions, sedimentary structures and weathered rocks can resemble eggs, shells, bones, skin, feathers or entire mysterious creatures. These geological look-alikes are sometimes called pseudofossils. Or, leaverits, as in leave it right there. 

Manganese minerals can grow in branching patterns resembling ferns. Concretions can look remarkably like eggs. Layered rocks may split into shapes suggesting shells or leaves. Some rocks possess suspiciously skull-like features and an unreasonable amount of charisma.

The human brain excels at recognizing familiar forms. This tendency, called pareidolia, helps us see faces in clouds, animals in tree bark and dinosaurs in the landscaping gravel.

None of this makes an unusual rock uninteresting. A pseudofossil can still be geologically beautiful.

It simply tells a different story.

THE FOSSIL RECORD IS BIASED

The fossil record is sometimes imagined as a great stone library containing the complete history of life.

It is more like a library after fire, flood, renovation, several lost catalogues and four billion years of questionable management.

Some chapters are richly detailed. Others contain a few scattered sentences. Entire volumes are missing.

Organisms with shells, bones or teeth are more likely to be preserved than soft-bodied organisms. Aquatic environments are generally better represented than upland habitats. Abundant and widespread species have a greater chance of discovery than rare, geographically restricted ones.

Even human activity introduces bias. Fossils are more likely to be discovered where rocks are exposed, where researchers can travel and where scientific work has been funded.

Palaeontologists must account for these biases when interpreting patterns of diversity, evolution and extinction. An absence of fossils does not necessarily prove that an organism was absent. It may mean that the right rocks were not deposited, did not survive or have not yet been explored.

The fossil record is incomplete. But incomplete does not mean useless. It means we must read it carefully.

A FOSSIL IS A RELATIONSHIP

There is another way to think about fossils. A fossil is not merely a thing that was once alive. It is the relationship between life and the Earth that preserved it. The organism contributed its body or behaviour. The environment supplied mud, sand, ash, resin, ice or minerals. Time transformed the evidence. Erosion returned it to the light. Then someone noticed.

That final part matters. A fossil can lie exposed among a thousand ordinary stones and remain silent until a curious person stops, looks closely and asks a question.

What made this shape? Why is this shell inside a mountain? Who walked here? What kind of world once existed beneath my feet? Every fossil discovery begins with attention. And many great specimens have been found by folk of all ages (many of them too young to vote) who take notice of the world around them.

A MESSAGE THAT SURVIVED

To hold a fossil is to hold a contradiction. It is evidence of death that teaches us about life. It is a motionless object that may record movement. It is a fragment capable of revealing an ecosystem.

It is ancient, yet newly discovered.

The animal, plant or microorganism did not set out to leave us a message. The footprint was not made for our benefit. The shell did not settle onto the seafloor hoping to appear one day in a museum drawer.

And yet the evidence survived.

Across burial, mineralization, shifting continents, rising mountains and relentless erosion, something remained.

A tooth.

A leaf.

A burrow.

A trail across the mud.

A tiny, stubborn piece of deep time waiting for someone to recognize it.

That is a fossil.

MOVE OVER, T. REX: THERE IS A NEW KING IN TOWN

Eighty million years ago, long before Texas acquired highways, cattle ranches or the unshakeable belief that everything should be larger there, much of the region lay beneath a warm inland sea.

And cruising through those waters was an animal that appears to have taken the entire “bigger in Texas” philosophy rather seriously.

Meet Tylosaurus rex, a newly recognized species of giant mosasaur described in 2026.

It measured as much as 13.2 metres long, carried a mouthful of finely serrated teeth and possessed adaptations for unusually powerful jaw and neck muscles.

In short, it was an enormous marine lizard with steak knives for teeth and the disposition of something that had never once been asked to use its indoor voice.

The name Tylosaurus rex means “king of the tylosaurs.”

Yes, that makes it another T. rex. No, it was not a dinosaur.

Mosasaurs were enormous marine reptiles belonging to the squamate lineage that includes modern snakes and lizards. Their ancestors began as land-dwelling animals, but by the Late Cretaceous their descendants had become thoroughly committed to ocean life.

They developed streamlined bodies, paddle-like limbs and long, powerful tails. Some grew to extraordinary sizes and occupied the upper reaches of Cretaceous marine food webs.

While Tyrannosaurus rex would not appear until millions of years later, Tylosaurus rex was already patrolling the Western Interior Seaway—the vast body of water that once divided North America into eastern and western landmasses.

The resemblance between the two kings is largely one of reputation. Both were enormous apex predators, both possessed formidable skulls, and both appear to have occasionally settled disagreements by biting one another in the face.

Ah, royalty.

A FOSSIL HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT

The story of Tylosaurus rex is a lovely little tale. It is one that sparks a gleeful, "oh, what do we have here?" The story begins inside a museum drawer.

Lead author Amelia Zietlow was studying a mosasaur fossil in the collection of the American Museum of Natural History when she noticed that it did not fit comfortably with Tylosaurus proriger, the species to which it had been assigned.

It was larger. Its anatomy was different. Its teeth carried fine serrations—an unusual feature among mosasaurs.

That suspicious specimen led researchers back through fossils held in several museum collections. More than a dozen specimens, most collected from northern Texas decades earlier, began to reveal a consistent pattern.

These were not simply especially large or slightly peculiar examples of T. proriger. They represented another species.

In May 2026, Zietlow, Michael Polcyn and Ronald Tykoski formally described Tylosaurus rex in the Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History. The fossils came from rocks of Campanian age, approximately 80 million years old. Read the original scientific paper through the American Museum of Natural History.

This is one of my favourite kinds of palaeontological revelation: not a fossil newly pulled from the earth, but an animal newly seen.

The bones had been found. They had been collected, prepared, catalogued and cared for. What changed was the question being asked of them.

Museum collections are not mausoleums for finished ideas. They are scientific libraries, and occasionally one of the books turns out to have been shelved under the wrong name.

THE SIZE OF A SCHOOL BUS

The specimens assigned to Tylosaurus rex produced estimated body lengths ranging from about 7.7 to 13.2 metres. The largest was approximately the length of a school bus.

Imagine, if you will, a school bus with flippers, a long muscular tail and a skull designed to make the other residents of the seaway reconsider their afternoon plans.

The species was consistently larger than Tylosaurus proriger in the researchers’ comparisons, although the authors appropriately caution that preservation and sampling can influence apparent size differences in the fossil record.

The skull is where matters become especially interesting.

Tylosaurus rex possessed structural features associated with enlarged jaw and neck muscles. Its teeth were also finely serrated, providing cutting edges that would have helped it process large prey.

This was a long animal powerfully built at the business end.

The precise menu is not preserved as a tidy Cretaceous restaurant bill, but the Western Interior Seaway contained abundant fish, sharks, turtles, seabirds and other marine reptiles. A predator of this size and construction may have been capable of attacking a considerable variety of animals.

It was, in scientific terms, a very large problem with flippers.

THE BLACK KNIGHT (NO, NOT BATMAN... HE'S THE DARK KNIGHT...NON-AQUATIC)

One of the most memorable specimens is held by the Perot Museum of Nature and Science in Dallas.

Nicknamed the “Black Knight,” it is missing the tip of its snout and has a fractured lower jaw. Researchers believe the injuries were inflicted by another similarly sized tylosaur.

That means at least some members of this species survived spectacularly violent encounters with their own kind.

Whether these battles involved territory, mates, food or the Cretaceous equivalent of someone cutting ahead in the ammonite queue is impossible to know. Yet the injuries provide a rare glimpse into behaviour.

Bones do more than reveal anatomy. They can preserve the consequences of a life actually lived: disease, healing, predation, combat and survival.

The Black Knight was not simply a representative diagram of a species. It was an individual animal that experienced an exceptionally bad day and lived long enough for its damaged bones to record the event.

A FAMILY TREE IN NEED OF PRUNING

The 2026 study named a spectacular predator, and also revised the anatomical character list used to reconstruct relationships among mosasaurs. 

Some earlier analyses relied upon datasets assembled from limited specimens and repeated through successive studies. Returning to the fossils allowed the team to reassess which features were genuinely useful for distinguishing species and tracing evolutionary relationships.

Mosasaur evolution was remarkably rapid.

Their terrestrial ancestors entered aquatic environments during the Cretaceous, and within a relatively short geological interval, mosasaurs diversified into an impressive variety of marine predators. Some developed crushing teeth suited to hard-shelled prey. Others possessed slender jaws for catching fish. 

The tylosaurs became long-snouted, powerful hunters and were among the first mosasaur lineages to achieve truly gigantic body sizes.

Tylosaurus rex appears to represent an especially robust expression of that experiment: larger, heavily muscled and equipped with unusually sharp-edged teeth.

Evolution did not simply produce a big mosasaur. It produced a big mosasaur and then apparently gave it upgrades.

THE IMPORTANCE OF LOOKING AGAIN

There is something deeply satisfying about a fossil that refuses to remain what its label says it is.

For decades, these Texas specimens were known, preserved and studied under another name. Their discovery as a distinct species required someone to pause, notice the inconsistencies and ask whether the established identification was actually correct.

That is science at its finest.

Science is not weakened when an old interpretation changes. It is doing precisely what it is meant to do: responding to evidence, refining its explanations and occasionally admitting that the giant, serrated-toothed marine lizard in the cupboard has been misidentified.

The description of Tylosaurus rex also honours Texas palaeontologist John Thurmond, who had suspected decades earlier that the region’s unusual tylosaur fossils might represent a separate species. 

John had solid instincts. He was bang on.

LONG LIVE THE KING

Around 80 million years ago, Tylosaurus rex moved through a sea that no longer exists.

Above it flew pterosaurs and ancient birds. Beneath it swam fish, sharks, turtles and other marine reptiles. Ammonites drifted through the water carrying their beautifully coiled shells, presumably hoping not to draw attention to themselves.

Then the seaway vanished. Sediments became stone. Bones were buried, uncovered and placed in museums beneath names that seemed reasonable at the time.

It took a fresh pair of eyes to recognize the king.

Museum collections are a wonderful place to poke about and time and time again that looking with fresh eyes pays gold. It is true for Canada's first Sabre-toothed cat fossil and Vancouver Island's first dinosaur, too. They were both sitting pretty, woefully mislabeled then serendipity along with fresh eyes revealed the truth.

New species may already be resting in cabinets and storerooms, patiently waiting for someone to notice that their teeth are a little too serrated, their jaws a little too muscular and their identity altogether more magnificent than the label suggests.

And somewhere in Texas, the other T. rex is finally enjoying its coronation.

Lead Image: Amelia Zietlow, lead author of the new study, examines the Tylosaurus rex holotype skeleton (PMNS 8029) in February 2023 at the Perot Museum of Nature and Science.

Courtesy of Perot Museum of Nature and Science

Charming end note:

As well as these lovelies, there is also an ancient marsupial lion (Thylacoleo rex), a blind, cave-dwelling salamander (Typhlomolge rex), and a parasitic leech (Tyrannobdella rex), who are proudly in the T. rex club.

ROCK TO MUSEUM: JOURNEY OF A FOSSIL

Finding a fossil is like time-traveling with your hands. 

One moment you’re walking along a riverbank or quarry, scanning the ground, and the next—a fragment of bone, a whorl of an ammonite, or the outline of a fern leaf catches your eye. 

That thrill? It never gets old.

But the real magic happens after discovery. Fossils are often locked away in hard rock, fragile as porcelain and millions of years old. 

Paleontologists and citizen scientists use delicate tools—dental picks, air scribes, and fine brushes—to slowly free them, grain by grain. In some cases, a fossil is encased in plaster field jackets to keep it safe during transport, like a mummy wrapped for a journey through time.

Fossil Prep Lab

Once back in the lab, preparation becomes part science, part art. 

Stabilizing cracks, cleaning away stone, and sometimes even using microscopes to reveal the smallest details—all of this ensures the fossil tells its story clearly. 

For research, every surface and feature matters: teeth reveal diets, bone growth shows age, and even microscopic scratches whisper about ancient ecosystems.

When the work is done, fossils can either stay in collections for study or move into museum galleries. There, preparators mount them with custom armatures or create casts so the originals remain protected. Under lights and glass, these specimens connect us to their history—turning silent stone into storytellers. 

Prepping with an Air Scribe

Sometimes we see the specimen in isolation and other times we see who that creature was living amongst, how it made a living and what the environmental conditions were like. 

We might look at the pollen in the rock next to the fossil or bits of debris that help share these clues. 

Every fossil in a museum has taken this long journey: discovered in the field, carefully freed in the lab, then shared with the world. 

As you walk through the paleo exhibits at museums, you will begin to see the amount of time and patience that goes into preparing those specimens, both for study and display. 

A MOST PERSONAL FOSSIL: WHAT ANCIENT POO TELLS US ABOUT PREHISTORIC LIFE

Coprolites: Fossil Poop

Not every fossil enters the scientific record wrapped in dignity.

Some emerge from the rock with elegant ribs, formidable teeth or shells spiralled like mathematical poetry. Others are, quite unmistakably, ancient poo.

These geological indiscretions are known as coprolites—fossilized droppings left behind by animals that lived thousands or even millions of years ago. They may lack the grandeur of a dinosaur skull, but they are among the most intimate messages ever delivered from the prehistoric world.

A bone tells us that an animal lived. A coprolite tells us what it had for lunch. Sometimes, it also tells us whether lunch fought back.

The word coprolite comes from the Greek words kopros, meaning dung, and lithos, meaning stone. The term was introduced in the nineteenth century by the English geologist and fossil hunter William Buckland, a man who was famously fascinated by the less glamorous evidence left behind by ancient animals.

Despite the name, coprolites are not simply old droppings that have dried out and somehow survived. Like other fossils, their original material has usually been altered or replaced by minerals over time. Under the right conditions, an animal’s waste may be buried rapidly in sediment, protected from scavengers and decay, and gradually transformed into stone.

The result is a remarkably personal time capsule.

Inside a coprolite, we may discover fragments of bone, fish scales, shells, plant fibres, pollen, seeds and other traces of an ancient meal. Some even preserve the remains of parasites—proof that intestinal freeloaders have been making themselves unwelcome for a very long time.

Nature, it seems, invented digestive inconvenience well before humanity invented antacids.

WHO LEFT IT?

Determining that something is fossilized dung is only the beginning. Identifying the creature responsible can be considerably more difficult.

Unlike a tooth or skull, a coprolite rarely comes with the name of its producer conveniently attached. Its size, shape and contents can offer clues, but several animals living in the same environment may have produced similar droppings.

Researchers therefore study where the specimen was found, which animals are known from the surrounding rocks and what the coprolite contains. Spiralled coprolites, for example, may have been produced by animals with spiral-shaped intestinal valves, including certain ancient fishes and sharks. Large coprolites packed with shattered bone could point toward a sizeable carnivore with powerful jaws and an enthusiastic approach to dinner.

Even then, assigning a coprolite to a particular species may remain uncertain. Fossil poo is informative, but it is not always cooperative.

THE ORIGINAL DINNER RECEIPT

Coprolites provide evidence that skeletons alone cannot.

A collection of sharp teeth may suggest that an animal was a predator, but a coprolite containing chewed bone offers direct evidence of what at least one animal actually consumed. Plant-filled specimens can reveal the vegetation available in an ancient ecosystem. Fish scales, shell fragments and tiny bones may expose relationships between predator and prey.

Occasionally, tooth marks or partially digested remains reveal how food was processed. The condition of the material may even provide clues about digestive chemistry and how efficiently an animal broke down its meals.

Coprolites can also help reconstruct entire food webs. By combining their contents with fossil plants, pollen, footprints, bones and environmental evidence preserved in the surrounding rock, scientists can begin to understand who lived in an ecosystem, who ate whom and what happened after everyone had finished eating.

It is prehistoric ecology reconstructed from the least glamorous evidence imaginable.

THE PROBLEM WITH PREHISTORIC POO

Of course, not every suspiciously shaped lump is a coprolite.

Rocks are perfectly capable of impersonating biological objects. Mineral concretions, mud structures and strangely weathered stones may all resemble fossilized droppings—sometimes with alarming conviction.

Shape alone is rarely enough to confirm an identification. Researchers may examine a suspected coprolite under a microscope, study thin sections, analyze its chemical composition or use imaging technology to look inside without destroying it.

Phosphates associated with digested material can support an identification, as can recognizable food remains embedded within the specimen. Context matters enormously. A poo-shaped stone found in sediment containing abundant animal fossils is more promising than an identical lump discovered somewhere with no evidence of ancient life.

Sometimes a strangely shaped rock is a trace of prehistoric behaviour.

Sometimes it is simply a rock with an unfortunate silhouette.

Coprolites inevitably inspire laughter—and rightly so. Palaeontology does not become less serious when we admit that some fossils are funny.

But beneath the humour lies an extraordinary scientific resource. Coprolites preserve moments that bones often cannot: an animal feeding, digesting and moving through its environment. They capture behaviour rather than merely anatomy.

They remind us that prehistoric animals were not static museum displays. They hunted, grazed, scavenged, swallowed, digested, hosted parasites and occasionally consumed things they may later have regretted.

Millions of years later, we examine the mineralized remains of those meals and try to reconstruct the vanished worlds around them.

It is humbling, really.

We spend our lives hoping to leave behind something meaningful—a great work, a lasting legacy, perhaps a beautifully preserved skeleton in a respectable museum.

Have you found fossilized poop? Good on you! It is a mark of pride in any civilized collection!

Yet for some ancient creatures, the most revealing thing they ever left us was what they left behind.

Image: Asset id: 2461279721; Fossilized dinosaur feces (coprolites) on display at Rainbow Forest Museum and Visitor Center in Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona. Dinosaur droppings or poop fossil.

URSUS CURIOUS: TLA'YI

A young Black Bear cub, Ursus americanus, tip-toes toward a frisky (and very startled) Striped Skunk, Mephitis mephitis — two wonderfully charismatic neighbours here in southern British Columbia.

Skunks, despite their reputation as the great olfactory villains of the mammal world, are actually closer to Old World stink badgers than to true polecats. 

Their infamous spray comes from paired anal scent glands capable of delivering a sulphur-rich chemical cocktail with uncanny accuracy — up to three metres, cross-wind. 

A single blast contains thiols so potent that predators learn, very quickly, that curiosity is overrated. Well… most predators. This wee bear clearly didn’t get the memo.

Black Bear cubs are, by nature, little bundles of kinetic joy and overwhelming inquisitiveness. Born in mid-winter, blind and tiny (weighing little more than a can of soup), they spend their first months cozied up in the den. 

By spring, though? Trouble. Pure, adorable trouble. Cubs stay with their mothers for about two years, learning every essential skill — how to climb, what to eat, what not to poke — but sometimes a particularly irresistible mystery will lure one a few metres away for a solo investigation.

Skunks, meanwhile, are far more than their signature scent. They’re accomplished insectivores with surprisingly strong forelimbs, adapted for rooting out beetle larvae, grubs, and other soil-dwelling goodies. 

They’re also bold. A skunk will usually stomp its feet, click its teeth, and arch its tail in a dramatic “Don’t make me do it” warning display. 

And yet — miracle of miracles — nobody got skunked. A karmic win for everyone involved.

This charming moment is also a reminder of the rich biodiversity we’re blessed with on the rugged west coast of British Columbia, where coastal rainforests shelter everything from salmon-loving black bears to nocturnal, grub-snuffling skunks.

Bears and skunks also have deep, fascinating roots in the fossil record. The lineage leading to modern skunks (Mephitidae) first appears in the Oligocene, roughly 30–32 million years ago, with early forms like Promephitis showing many of the skeletal hallmarks — and likely the scent-gland superpowers — of their modern cousins. 

Bears (Ursidae), meanwhile, trace their ancestry back even further. Their earliest known relatives emerge in the late Eocene, around 38 million years ago, with small, doglike proto-bears such as Parictis and later the hemicyonids, sometimes called “dog-bears,” bridging the evolutionary steps toward the true bears we know today. 

By the Miocene, both families were well established across North America, sharing ancient forests and floodplains just as their modern descendants do today — though hopefully with just as few skunk-related mishaps.

In the Kwak'wala language of the Kwakwaka'wakw First Nations of the Pacific Northwest, this playful black bear is t̕ła'yi — a name that captures both its spirit and its place within these lands. 

A perfect word for a perfect little explorer with an arguably questionable sense of danger.

SPISULA FOSSIL CLAMS OF HAIDA GWAII

Some lovely Spisula praecursor (Dall) fossil clams from the Skonun Formation of Haida Gwaii, British Columbia, captured from the Miocene when this coastline looked very different from today. 

These fossil bivalves belong to the surf clam lineage, a group well adapted to shallow, energetic marine environments with shifting sands and strong wave action. 

Their robust, equivalve shells and streamlined form speak to a life spent burrowed just beneath the sediment surface, filtering seawater for food while riding out constant motion above.

The Skonun Formation preserves a rich snapshot of nearshore marine life along the northeastern Pacific margin during the Miocene, roughly 23 to 5 million years ago. 

At that time, Haida Gwaii lay along an active tectonic edge, with sediments accumulating in coastal and shelf settings influenced by currents, storms, and abundant nutrient flow. 

Fossils such as Spisula praecursor help us reconstruct these dynamic environments, offering clues about water depth, substrate type, and even paleoclimate.

These particular specimens came from a single block only accessible on a falling tide. Timing, as ever, was everything—and the tide had other ideas. 

The excavation involved equal parts determination and seawater, leaving both collector and fossils thoroughly soaked. Still, there is something fitting about getting wet while freeing marine clams from their ancient shoreline, a small reminder that fieldwork often mirrors the environments we are trying to understand.

BEAUTY IN STONE: ANAHOPLITES PLANUS

There are fossils that whisper and then there are those that positively sing.

This interesting beauty is a splendid specimen of Anahoplites planus (Mantell, 1822), drawn from Albian-aged sediments at Courcelles-sur-Voire in the Aube region of north-central France. 

And sing, it does! There are so many things going on here!

Roughly 105 million years ago, when warm Cretaceous seas spread across much of Europe, this elegant cephalopod cruised ancient waters with all the poise of a creature that knew it wore excellent tailoring.

Anahoplites, first named by Sowerby in 1815, is a delightfully refined genus of hoplitid ammonite. 

Its shell is compressed and neatly streamlined, with flat flanks, a narrow venter — sometimes grooved, sometimes smooth — and graceful, flexuous ribs rising from modest umbilical tubercles before ending in a fringe of fine ventrolateral nodes. In short: less brute force, more couture. 

Its sturdier cousins in the Hoplitinae favour broader whorls and heavier ornament, but Anahoplites has always struck a finer silhouette.

Today, the genus sits comfortably within the subfamily Anahoplitinae, a taxonomic reshuffle that recognises its more delicate build and distinct style. We find these beauties in Middle to Late Albian rocks from England across Europe and eastward toward the Transcaspian reaches near the Caspian Sea — proof that good design travels.

And what a setting this fossil calls home. The Aube department lends its name to the Albian Stage itself, established by d’Orbigny in 1842. 

Here, the stratotype succession includes the Argiles tégulines de Courcelles, some 82 metres of clay-rich deposits, overlain by the Marnes de Brienne, a further 43 metres of marl. Their boundary is marked by a hardened bed, clear in the field to those with sharp eyes and muddy boots.

This particular shell, measuring 113 mm across, did not rest alone on the seafloor. It became a tiny apartment block after death. 

Two forms of bryozoans encrust its surface, joined by an oyster and industrious serpulid worms, all leaving their marks upon those handsome flanks. Even in death, it was prime real estate.

Lovingly prepared using potash by José Juárez Ruiz of Spain, this fossil now offers us not just the form of one ammonite, but a snapshot of an ancient community. 

WHALE REMAINS AT JOUGLA POINT, ANTARCTIC PENINSULA

Blue Whale Remains, Balaenoptera musculus

Along the stony shore of Jougla Point, near Port Lockroy on the Antarctic Peninsula, a scatter of great bones lies open to the wind. 

The skeleton is that of a blue whale, Balaenoptera musculus, the largest animal ever known to have lived on Earth, though the assemblage may include bones from other baleen whales discarded during the industrial whaling era. 

Visitors approach in Zodiacs to find vertebrae the size of millstones, jaw elements curved like crossed oars, and ribs arcing across the gravel. 

It is a stark and unsentimental record of the 20th-century hunt that once emptied Antarctic waters of their giants.

Blue whales are baleen mysticetes within the rorqual family, engineered for long migrations and high-volume filter feeding. 

Adults can exceed 30 meters in length and reach masses over 150 tonnes — a scale that eclipses even the largest dinosaurs. Their fossil record is surprisingly young. 

Although whale ancestors arose in the Eocene (~50 million years ago), the lineage leading to modern rorquals, including blue whales, diversifies during the Miocene and Pliocene (roughly 23–2.6 million years ago). 

Fossil mysticetes from California, Italy, Peru, and New Zealand document that transition: from toothed baleen ancestors to fully edentulous filter feeders with vaulting skulls and expandable throats built for krill-rich seas. 

True “blue whale–like” forms appear only in the Pleistocene and Holocene, making these colossal cetaceans a relatively recent evolutionary experiment.

In life today, blue whales occupy vast swaths of the global ocean, moving seasonally between high-latitude feeding grounds and lower-latitude calving areas. Major populations persist in the North Atlantic, North Pacific, eastern tropical Pacific, Southern Ocean, and waters off Australia and New Zealand. 

Their preferred summer feeding grounds lie in zones of upwelling and krill abundance — places like the California Current, the Subantarctic Front, and the Scotia Sea.

The industrial era nearly erased them. 

Prior to commercial hunting, global numbers likely exceeded 250,000 individuals. By the 1970s, after decades of relentless Antarctic whaling, their numbers crashed to less than 1% of pre-exploitation levels. 

With international protections in place, blue whales are recovering slowly but unevenly. 

Current estimates hover around 10,000–25,000 animals worldwide — still critically small for a species of such enormous ecological footprint.

Despite their rarity, blue whales remain visible to those who seek them. They are encountered off California and Baja, around Sri Lanka, in the Gulf of Corcovado, the Tasman Sea, the Kerguelen Plateau, and sporadically across the Southern Ocean. 

In these places, the sea shines with plankton and the long low blows of a whale may hang in the air like cold breath.

At Jougla Point, the story is told through bones weathering in chilly silence — a natural museum without walls. I am generally in search of fossil remains, but these hit all those same emotions. Barring our intervention and natural disaster, these great beasts can live to be more than 100 years old. What they must see over those long years.   

And, how do we know how old they are? We can estimate age by reading earplug layers (like tree rings) in deceased whales — each waxy layer marks a period of life, helping confirm those long lifespans.

DRIFTWOOD CANYON FOSSIL BEDS

Puffbird similar to Fossil Birds found at Driftwood Canyon 

Driftwood Canyon Provincial Park 

Driftwood Canyon Provincial Park covers 23 hectares of the Bulkley River Valley, on the east side of Driftwood Creek, a tributary of the Bulkley River, 10 km northeast of the town of Smithers in northern British Columbia. 

Driftwood Canyon is recognized as one of the world’s most significant fossil beds. 

It provides park users with a fascinating opportunity to understand the area’s evolutionary processes of both geology and biology. The day-use area is open from May 15 to September 2. There is a short, wheelchair-accessible interpretative trail that leads from the parking are to the fossil beds. Pets are welcome on leash. Signs along the trail provide information on fossils and local history. 

Wet'suwet'en First Nation

The parklands are part of the Traditional Territory of the Wet'suwet'en First Nation which includes lands around the Bulkley River, Burns Lake, Broman Lake, and François Lake in the northwestern Central Interior of British Columbia. 

The Wetʼsuwetʼen are part of the Dakelh or Carrier First Nation, and in combination with the Babine First Nation are referred to as the Western Carrier. They speak Witsuwitʼen, a dialect of the Babine-Witsuwitʼen language which, like its sister language Carrier, is a member of the Athabaskan family.

Their oral history or kungax recounts a time when their ancestral village, Dizkle or Dzilke, once stood upstream from the Bulkley Canyon. This cluster of cedar houses on both sides of the river was said to be abandoned because of an omen of impending disaster. The exact location of the village has been lost but their stories live on. 

The neighbouring Gitxsan, collectively the People of Smooth Waters—the Gilseyhu Big Frog Clan, the Laksilyu Small Frog Clan, the Tsayu Beaver Clan, the Gitdumden Wolf and Bear Clan and the Laksamshu Fireweed and Owl Clan—each phratry or kinship group calling the Lax Yip home—33,000 km2 of land and water in northwestern ​British Columbia along the waters of the Skeena River and its tributaries—have a similar tale—though the village in their versions is referred to as Dimlahamid or Temlahan depending on which house group or wilp is sharing the tale—as well as where they are located as dialects differ. 

Gitksan speak Sim'algax—the real or true language. Within the Gitxsan communities there are two slightly different dialects. The Gyeets (Downriver) dialect spoken in Gijigyukwhla (Gitsegukla), Gitwangax, and Gitanyow—and the Gigeenix (Upriver) dialect is spoken in Ansbayaxw (Kispiox), Sik-E-Dakh and Gitanmaax.

Driftwood Canyon Fossil Beds

Driftwood Canyon's Fossil Beds record life in the earlier portion of the Eocene when British Columbia — and indeed our world — was much warmer than it is today. This site was discovered in the beginning of the 20th century and is now recognized as containing significant fossil material. 

I was speaking this week with a friend and classmate recently from a Traditional Ecological Knowledge course through the University of Northern British Columbia, Jessy, about Driftwood Canyon and the fossil resources found here.

The fossils are tremendous—and their superb preservation—provide a fascinating opportunity to understand the area’s evolutionary processes of both geology and biology over the past fifty million years or so. The fossils themselves are 51.7 million years old and look remarkably like many of the species we recognize today. 

The fossil beds are on the east side of Driftwood Creek, C’ide’Yikwah in Witsuwit’en, which has its headwaters in the main, southwest facing basin of the Babine Mountains. The park that contains these beautiful fossils is fifty-seven years old. 

It was created in 1967 by the generosity of the late Gordon Harvey (1913–1976). He donated the land to protect fossil resources that he truly loved and wanted to see preserved. How Harvey came to be in a position to donate lands once part of a First Nation Traditional Territory will need to be explored deeper. I will share as I learn more about this as I learn more from locals and the local history museum in the coming weeks and months.

Metasequoia, the Dawn Redwood

Exploring the region today, we see a landscape dominated by conifers blanketing the area. 

Forests teem with the aromatic Western Red Cedar, Pacific Silver Fir with its many medicinal properties, the tall and lanky Subalpine Fir with its soft, brittle and quickly decaying wood, the slender scaly Lodgepole Pine, the graceful and slightly forlorn looking Western Hemlock. 

Across the landscape you see several species of Spruce, including the impressive Sitka, Picea sitchensis, the world's largest spruce tree who live up to an impressive 800 years. 

The stands of mature Sitka standing here today were just being established in this ground back in 1921 when Smithers was designated as the first incorporated village in British Columbia. They are slow to establish and get going, but once embedded are amongst the fastest growing trees we see on the western edge of Canada, colonizing glacial moraines with their cold resistant stock centuries ago when the glaciers that once covered this land eventually retreated.

Some of the tallest on view would have been mere seedlings, colonizing the glacial moraines centuries ago when the glaciers retreated. Collectively, these conifers tell the tale of the region's cool climate today. 

The Gitsan territory boasts seven of the 14 biogeoclimatic zones of the province—the Alpine Tundra, Spruce-Willow-Birch, Boreal White and Black Spruce, Sub-Boreal Pine-Spruce, Sub-Boreal Spruce, Engelmann Spruce-Subalpine Fir and Interior Cedar-Hemlock. 

The fossil material we find here speaks to a warmer climate in this region's past. We find fossil plants, fish—including specimens of salmon, suckerfish and bowfin, a type of air breathing fish—and insect fossil here—wasps and water striders—fossil plants including Metasequoia, the Dawn Redwood, alder—and interesting vertebrate material. Bird feathers are infrequently collected from the shales; however, two bird body fossils have been found here.

In 1968, a bird body fossil was collected in the Eocene shales of the Ootsa Lake Group in Driftwood Canyon Provincial Park by Pat Petley of Kamloops. 

Pat donated the specimen in 2000 to the Thompson Rivers University (TRU) palaeontology collections. This fossil bird specimen is tentatively identified as the puffbird, Piciformes bucconidae, of the genus Primobucco.

Primobucco is an extinct genus of bird placed in its own family, Primobucconidae. The type species, Primobucco mcgrewi, lived during the Lower Eocene of North America. It was initially described by American paleo-ornithologist Pierce Brodkorb in 1970, from a fossil right-wing, and thought to be an early puffbird. However, the discovery of a further 12 fossils in 2010 indicate that it is instead an early type of roller.

Related fossils from the European Messel deposits have been assigned to the two species P. perneri and P. frugilegus. Two specimens of P. frugilegus have been found with seeds in the area of their digestive tract, which suggests that these birds were more omnivorous than the exclusively predaceous modern rollers. The Driftwood specimen has never been thoroughly studied. If there is a grad student out there looking for a worthy thesis, head on down to the Thompson Rivers University where you'll find the specimen on display.

Another fossil bird, complete with feathers, was collected at Driftwood Canyon in 1970, This one was found by Margret and Albrecht Klöckner who were travelling from Germany. Theirs is a well-travelled specimen, having visited many sites in BC as they toured around, then to Germany and finally back to British Columbia when it was repatriated and donated to the Royal British Columbia Museum in Victoria. 

I am not sure if it is still on display or back in collections, but it was lovingly displayed back in 2008. There is a new grad student, Alexis, looking at Eocene bird feathers down at the RBCM, so perhaps it is once again doing the rounds. 

This second bird fossil is of a long-legged water bird and has been tentatively identified by Dr. Gareth Dyke of the University of Southampton as possibly from the order Charadriiformes, a diverse order of small to medium-ish water birds that include 350 species of gulls, plovers, sandpipers, terns, snipes, and waders. Hopefully, we'll hear more on this find in the future.

A Tapir showing off his prehensile nose trunk

Tapirs and Tiny Hedgehogs

The outcrops at Driftwood Canyon are also special because they record a record of some of the first fossil mammals ever to be found in British Columbia at this pivotal point in time. 

Wee proto-hedgehogs smaller than your thumb lived in the undergrowth of that fossil flora. They shared the forest floor with an extinct tapir-like herbivore in the genus Heptodon that looked remarkably similar to his modern, extant cousins (there is a rather cheeky fellow shown here so you get the idea) but lacked their pronounced snout (proboscis). I am guessing that omission made him the more fetching of his lineage.

In both cases, it was a fossilized jaw bone that was recovered from the mud, silt and volcanic ash outcrops in this ancient lakebed site. And these two cuties are significant— they are the very first fossil mammals we've ever found from the early Eocene south of the Arctic.

How can we be sure of the timing? The fossil outcrops here are found within an ancient lakebed. Volcanic eruptions 51 million years ago put loads of fine dust into the air that settled then sank to the bottom of the lake, preserving the specimens that found their way here — leaves, insects, birds, mammals.

As well as turning the lake into a fossil making machine—water, ash, loads of steady sediment to cover specimens and stave off predation—the volcanic ash contains the very chemically inert—resistant to mechanical weathering—mineral zircon which we can date with uranium/lead (U/Pb). 

The U/Pb isotopic dating technique is wonderfully accurate and mighty helpful in dating geologic events from volcanic eruptions, continental movements to mass extinctions. This means we know exactly when these lovelies were fossilized and, in turn, their significance.

Know Before You Go

If you fancy a visit to Driftwood Canyon Park, the park is accessible from Driftwood Road from Provincial Highway 16. You are welcome to view and photograph the fossils found here but collecting is strictly forbidden. 

Driftwood Canyon is recognized as one of the world’s most significant fossil beds. It provides park users with a fascinating opportunity to understand the area’s evolutionary processes of both geology and biology. The day-use area is open from May 15 to September 2. There is a short, wheelchair-accessible interpretative trail that leads from the parking are to the fossil beds. Pets are welcome on leash. Signs along the trail provide information on fossils and local history. 

Below a cliff face at the end of the trail is a viewing area that has interpretive information and viewing area overlooking Driftwood Creek.

This park proudly operated by Mark and Anais Drydyk

Email: kermodeparks@gmail.com / Tel: 1 250 877-1482 or 1 250 877-1782

Palaeo Coordinates: Latitude: 50° 51' 59" N / Longitude: 116° 27' 37" W

Lat/Long (dec): 50.86665,-116.46042 / GUID: d3a6bd3e-68d6-42cf-9b2c-d20a30576988

Driftwood Canyon Provincial Park Brochure: 

https://bcparks.ca/explore/parkpgs/driftwood_cyn/driftwood-canyon-brochure.pdf?v=1638723136455

Sheila Peters: Driftwood Creek – and the ways we cross it; here Sheila Peters shares a wonderful lived history which I have not had the pleasure to yet fully explore as of 09 February 2025. I do recommend you checking out her post as it contains information and photographs worthy of a newcomers visit to the area.

Link: https://sheilapeters.com/tag/peavine-harvey/

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LA BREA TAR PITS: STICKY DEATH AND DIRE WOLVES

Smilodon Skull at La Brea Tar Pits

In the heart of Los Angeles, surrounded by traffic, office towers and people carrying coffees of improbable complexity, the Earth is still bubbling. 

Dark pools of natural asphalt rise through the ground at Hancock Park, methane breaks at the surface and the air carries the unmistakable scent of petroleum. 

Beneath the lawns and walkways lies one of the richest Late Pleistocene fossil deposits on Earth.

Mammoths are here. Dire wolves are here. Sabre-toothed cats, enormous bison, ancient horses, camels, ground sloths, coyotes, birds, beetles, seeds, pollen and the delicate bones of tiny rodents are all here. 

Not alive, mercifully, but preserved in extraordinary numbers beneath modern Los Angeles, where natural asphalt seeps have been trapping plants and animals for tens of thousands of years.

The La Brea Tar Pits do not record one terrible day. They contain the accumulated evidence of countless separate accidents repeated across millennia. One animal became trapped, another arrived to investigate and several more approached because the Ice Age had not yet developed adequate warning signage.

FIRST, THEY ARE NOT ACTUALLY TAR PITS

The substance at La Brea is more accurately called natural asphalt, asphaltum or bitumen. Tar is generally produced by heating organic materials such as wood or coal, while asphalt is a naturally occurring petroleum substance. The familiar name has nevertheless stuck, which seems appropriate under the circumstances.

There is also a pleasing redundancy in “La Brea Tar Pits.” La brea means “the tar” in Spanish, making the full name roughly “the Tar Tar Pits.” 

It always has me thinking of Jar Jar Binks from Star Wars — “the Tar Tar Pits” has that same playful rhythm.

We could insist upon calling them the La Brea Asphalt Seeps, but that would deprive palaeontology of a perfectly good geological tongue-twister.

Beneath the Los Angeles Basin are thick, oil-rich marine deposits laid down millions of years ago. Petroleum migrated upward through faults and fractures until it reached the surface. There, lighter components evaporated or were degraded by microorganisms, leaving the heavier and remarkably sticky asphalt behind.

This material did not necessarily form the enormous open pools often depicted in paintings and museum dioramas. Asphalt could seep into shallow depressions and spread across the ground, sometimes hidden beneath water, dust, leaves or sediment. To an approaching animal, the surface may have looked like ordinary damp soil or a harmless watering place.

The mistake would become apparent with the first step.

THE MAKING OF A PREDATOR TRAP

An asphalt seep did not need to be deep enough to swallow a mammoth whole. It needed only to be sticky enough to hold a foot. Once a hoof sank into the asphalt, the animal’s attempts to pull free could trap another limb. Struggling pressed the feet deeper, spread asphalt across hair and skin and rapidly exhausted the victim.

Large herbivores such as bison, horses, camels, mammoths and ground sloths occasionally became immobilized in this way. Their distress calls and movements attracted predators and scavengers. 

A trapped bison represented a large meal that had already been thoughtfully restrained, and predators approached the opportunity with understandable enthusiasm and insufficient caution.

Dire wolves gathered. Sabre-toothed cats moved closer. Coyotes and scavenging birds arrived. Some fed from firmer ground, while others stepped onto the same deceptive surface and became trapped themselves.

This process is known as the predator-trap hypothesis, and it helps explain the remarkable abundance of carnivores in the La Brea deposits. One struggling herbivore could attract several predators and scavengers, producing a fossil assemblage in which carnivores greatly outnumber herbivores.

Roughly 70 to 80 per cent of the site’s larger mammal specimens are carnivores. That is almost the reverse of what we would expect in a living ecosystem, where herbivores generally outnumber large predators. The Natural History Museums of Los Angeles County notes that this carnivore-heavy composition distinguishes La Brea from most other fossil deposits.

This does not mean Ice Age Los Angeles was carpeted in dire wolves with the occasional bison squeezed between them. It means the asphalt seeps selectively trapped animals attracted to struggling prey. The deposit records not only which species lived in the region, but also how their behaviour influenced their likelihood of preservation.

The fossil record is rarely an impartial census. At La Brea, it is closer to a list of everyone who approached the buffet without first inspecting the floor.

DIRE WOLVES, SABRE-TOOTHED CATS AND ANCIENT COYOTES

Dire wolves were among the most frequently trapped large mammals. Known scientifically as Aenocyon dirus, they were heavily built canids that lived across the Americas during the Late Pleistocene. They had robust jaws and teeth suited to feeding on large prey, although, like living wolves, they probably scavenged when a meal presented itself.

Their abundance at La Brea may provide indirect evidence of social behaviour. If dire wolves hunted or scavenged in groups, one trapped herbivore might attract several pack members. A single incident could therefore add multiple wolves to the deposit. One meal, several hopeful carnivores and a deeply regrettable group decision.

The large collection allows researchers to study dire wolves as a population rather than as a scattering of isolated specimens. Individual animals can be compared for age, body size, tooth wear, injury and disease. Changes in anatomy and diet can also be tracked through time.

The most famous predator at La Brea is Smilodon fatalis, the sabre-toothed cat. If you have seen the skull and teeth of this kitty, you will agree the name is apt. 

A fun fact and wee aside, Canada's first Smilodon was found in a drawer in a museum by Dr. Rufus Churcher when he was poking about an old collection in Alberta. A wonderful storyteller with a keen eye, we owe that man a lot.

It was not a tiger, despite the enduring popularity of the name “sabre-toothed tiger.” Smilodon belonged to an extinct branch of the cat family and had a body built quite differently from that of modern lions or tigers.

It possessed enormous upper canine teeth, exceptionally powerful forelimbs, a deep chest and a relatively short tail. Its jaw could open extraordinarily wide, allowing those elongated canines to be used without colliding with the lower jaw. Rather than pursuing prey over long distances, Smilodon was likely an ambush predator. Its muscular forelimbs may have helped restrain large prey while it delivered a carefully positioned bite.

This was important because the famous canine teeth, though formidable, were not indestructible. They were effective weapons but poor candidates for being driven casually into struggling bone. Even the Ice Age’s most dramatic dental arrangement required responsible handling.

La Brea specimens preserve evidence of arthritis, fractures, tooth damage and healing. Some animals survived serious injuries long enough for their bones to repair. This has raised intriguing questions about whether sabre-toothed cats lived socially and whether impaired individuals may have received food or protection from others.

Healing proves survival, but it does not automatically prove social care. An injured animal might have scavenged, selected smaller prey or simply endured. We must distinguish what a bone demonstrates from what it merely suggests. Still, the injuries reveal that these cats had individual histories. They aged, suffered accidents, recovered and continued living in a landscape filled with large prey, competing carnivores and treacherously sticky patches of ground.

Coyotes, Canis latrans, also occur abundantly at La Brea, but unlike dire wolves and sabre-toothed cats, they survived the end-Pleistocene extinction. Their ecological flexibility may have given them an advantage. Coyotes can eat mammals, insects, fruit, carrion and an impressive assortment of whatever else becomes available. They can occupy deserts, grasslands, woodlands, agricultural areas and cities.

Large specialists often thrive when their preferred prey and habitats are stable, but they can struggle when ecosystems change rapidly. Coyotes appear to have regarded climatic upheaval, megafaunal extinction and the eventual construction of Los Angeles as challenges requiring only minor adjustments.

They still live in the city today.

MAMMOTHS, MASTODONS AND CAMELS IN CALIFORNIA

The herbivores preserved at La Brea include ancient bison, horses, camels, deer, pronghorn, mammoths and mastodons. Together, they reveal a Southern California landscape quite different from the one we know today.

Columbian mammoths, Mammuthus columbi, were enormous members of the elephant family. They possessed long, curving tusks and high-crowned ridged teeth suited to processing abrasive vegetation. Their diets varied across environments and could include both grasses and other plants.

American mastodons, Mammut americanum, were shorter and more heavily built, with molar teeth bearing rounded cusps. These teeth were better suited to crushing leaves, twigs and branches. Mammoths and mastodons were related, but they were not interchangeable shaggy elephants wandering through identical habitats.

Their teeth record the difference rather elegantly. Mammoth molars resemble enormous washboards. Mastodon molars carry prominent rounded cusps, which gave the animal its name: “mastodon” refers to the breast-like shape of the tooth projections. Palaeontology occasionally arrives at terminology by routes we might not choose today.

One of the site’s remarkable discoveries is a largely complete Columbian mammoth nicknamed Zed. His remains were uncovered in 2006 during the construction of an underground parking facility beside the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Zed. 

Not every major palaeontological discovery requires an expedition to a distant desert. Sometimes they require a construction crew, a parking proposal and someone sensible enough to stop digging. If you have a chance, look up the Dove Creek Mosasaur find. Similar story. Different place. Equally eagle-eyed humans. I'm thinking of you, Rick Ross! 

Ancient camels also lived in Ice Age California. The western camel, Camelops hesternus, was a large North American member of the camel family. This seems surprising only because we associate camels with Africa and Asia today. Camels actually evolved in North America and lived on the continent for tens of millions of years. Some migrated into Eurasia across Beringia, while others moved into South America and eventually gave rise to llamas, alpacas, guanacos and vicuñas.

The disappearance of camels from North America is the unusual part. Their presence at La Brea was perfectly ordinary at the time.

PROJECT 23: PALAEONTOLOGY BY WOODEN BOX

When construction near the Tar Pits encountered fossil deposits in 2006, excavating every specimen individually would have delayed work for an extremely long time. Instead, palaeontologists and engineers built large wooden crates around 23 fossil-bearing deposits. The blocks were lifted intact and moved to La Brea Tar Pits, where they could be excavated under controlled conditions.

The operation became known as Project 23.

Along with the boxed deposits came 327 buckets of fossil-rich sediment. The material contains large mammal bones, but also turtles, fish, snails, insects, seeds, leaves, small vertebrates and other remains essential to reconstructing the wider ecosystem. The museum’s Project 23 overview notes that researchers will be processing this enormous collection for years.

Project 23 demonstrates an important reality of modern palaeontology: fossil discovery frequently occurs during construction. Roads, foundations, mines and parking structures expose geological layers that would otherwise remain hidden. When scientific teams and developers work together, these unexpected discoveries can be recovered without sacrificing either the fossils or the project.

It also proves that if you place 23 enormous crates of asphalt-soaked Ice Age sediment in front of palaeontologists, they will be happily occupied for the foreseeable future.

THE TINY FOSSILS THAT RECONSTRUCT A LANDSCAPE

Mammoths and sabre-toothed cats attract attention, but some of La Brea’s most informative fossils are less than a centimetre long.

The asphalt and surrounding sediments preserve insects, spiders, seeds, leaves, pollen, molluscs, fish, frogs, lizards, bird bones, rodent teeth and tiny skeletal fragments. These remains are recovered from the excavated sediment, or matrix, which is carefully processed and examined under microscopes.

Staff and volunteers sort through it grain by grain. It is patient, meticulous work requiring steady hands and an ability to become sincerely delighted by something resembling a burnt sesame seed.

Microfossils allow researchers to reconstruct details that large mammal bones cannot provide. Pollen and seeds identify ancient vegetation. Beetles and other insects can indicate temperature, moisture and local habitat. Frogs and salamanders reveal the presence of freshwater or damp environments. Rodents can be sensitive indicators of particular ecological conditions.

The La Brea Fossil Lab emphasizes the importance of these small fossils for understanding environmental and climatic change during the Late Pleistocene.

Large mammals tell us who occupied the landscape. Microfossils tell us what the landscape was like.

Ice Age Los Angeles was not buried beneath a continental glacier. The region was generally cooler and wetter than it is today, with streams, grasslands, scrub and woodlands of oak and juniper. Mammoths, bison, horses and camels moved through these habitats while predators followed them.

It was recognizably Southern California, but with more water, fewer freeways and a substantial increase in large mammals capable of overturning your vehicle.

HOW ASPHALT PRESERVED THE FOSSILS

When animals became trapped, their bodies decayed and their bones sank into asphalt-rich sediment. Petroleum entered the pores of the bones, staining them dark brown or black and helping protect them from weathering and some forms of microbial destruction.

The asphalt also preserved delicate biological materials rarely retained at other fossil sites. These include bone collagen, plant cellulose and chitin from insect exoskeletons. Such materials can be used for radiocarbon dating, stable-isotope analysis and other forms of biochemical research.

La Brea is an exceptional Late Quaternary fossil deposit created by petroleum seepage over approximately the past 60,000 years. Its geoheritage profile notes that the site preserves millions of fossils representing hundreds of species.

The preservative, however, is also a contaminant. Petroleum contains ancient carbon that can distort radiocarbon dates. Researchers must therefore remove the asphalt carefully and isolate original organic material from the fossil.

The substance that protected the bone for tens of thousands of years must be persuaded to leave before the bone will surrender its age.

La Brea likes to keep its secrets sticky.

DATING EXTINCTION

Specialized methods for removing petroleum contamination have allowed researchers to obtain increasingly reliable radiocarbon dates from La Brea specimens.

In a major study of Ice Age extinction, scientists produced approximately 170 new dates for coyotes, horses, camels, bison, sabre-toothed cats, giant ground sloths, American lions and dire wolves. These dates helped establish when each species disappeared from Southern California.

The results suggest that the regional extinction did not occur in one sudden event. Large mammals vanished as the climate warmed, drought intensified, vegetation changed and fire activity increased. Human populations were also becoming established in the region, adding another ecological influence.

These pressures interacted. A warming climate altered habitats. Drought dried vegetation. Fire transformed plant communities. Large herbivores lost forage, while predators lost prey. Species able to change their diets or behaviour had an advantage over those dependent on a narrower range of conditions.

The Natural History Museums of Los Angeles County describes La Brea as an exceptional record because some species are represented by hundreds or thousands of individuals. This makes it possible to study not simply their existence, but their decline and disappearance through time.

The Tar Pits preserve extinct animals, but more importantly, they preserve the approach of extinction.

GIANT GROUND SLOTHS AND OTHER UNEXPECTED RESIDENTS

Among the more impressive herbivores at La Brea was Harlan’s ground sloth, Paramylodon harlani. Unlike modern tree sloths, it lived on the ground and possessed a heavily built body, powerful limbs and long claws. Small bony plates called osteoderms were embedded within its skin, providing an additional layer of protection.

It may have used its claws to pull down vegetation, dig for roots or defend itself from predators. When standing partly upright and supported by its tail, it could reach vegetation well above the ground.

Modern sloths give the impression that they would apologize for occupying your chair. Giant ground sloths look as though they might take the chair, the dining table and the adjacent shrubbery.

The deposits also preserve American lions, short-faced bears, pronghorn, peccaries and native horses, alongside reptiles, amphibians and an extraordinary diversity of birds. Asphalt is particularly effective at preserving delicate hollow bird bones, which are easily destroyed at other sites. As a result, La Brea holds one of the world’s largest fossil bird collections.

The birds are not merely background characters. Eagles, vultures, owls, ravens, waterbirds and songbirds occupied different parts of the ecosystem. Their remains help reconstruct habitats and food webs, while changes in bird communities can reflect broader environmental change.

ASPHALT AS A CULTURAL RESOURCE

The La Brea landscape has a human history as well as a palaeontological one. Indigenous peoples knew and used natural asphalt long before scientific excavation or commercial extraction began.

Tongva and Chumash peoples used asphalt to waterproof baskets and canoes, improve tools and create decorative objects. The material was also traded across the region. Educational material from La Brea Tar Pits recognizes this long history of Indigenous knowledge and use.

The asphalt was therefore not simply a dangerous geological substance. In knowledgeable hands, it was a valuable technology.

Commercial mining and extraction followed much later. Asphalt from Rancho La Brea was used for roofing and road construction before the area became protected for its fossils.

The site cannot be understood only as a trap for Ice Age animals. It is a cultural landscape where people observed, understood and worked with a distinctive natural resource for thousands of years.

A COLLECTION OF MILLIONS

Scientific excavation at La Brea began in earnest in 1913, although fossil bones had been encountered earlier. More than 100 excavations have since been conducted.

At the collection’s last comprehensive census in 1992, it already contained more than 3.5 million specimens. That number includes everything from large mammal bones to insects, seeds and tiny vertebrate remains. The La Brea collections include more than 60 mammal species, along with birds, reptiles, amphibians, fishes, molluscs, arthropods and plants.

The site remains scientifically active. Asphalt continues to seep, methane continues to bubble and fossil-bearing deposits continue to be excavated. La Brea is not a completed quarry whose discoveries are safely finished and catalogued. It is an active research site in the middle of a major city.

Beneath the lawns, streets and buildings, the Ice Age is still present.

A FOSSIL RECORD WITH A TRAP BUILT INTO IT

La Brea offers a particularly useful lesson in how fossil deposits must be interpreted.

The asphalt did not collect organisms fairly. Large animals were more likely to become immobilized than very small ones. Carnivores and scavengers were disproportionately drawn to trapped herbivores. Birds, insects and plants entered the deposits through different pathways. Individual seeps may also have accumulated remains over hundreds or thousands of years rather than during a single event.

We cannot simply count the fossils and assume the resulting proportions mirror the living community. More dire wolf bones do not prove that dire wolves vastly outnumbered bison across the landscape. 

They may demonstrate that dire wolves were social, attracted to distressed prey and willing to step onto suspicious ground when meat was involved.

Understanding how remains accumulated is the work of taphonomy—the study of everything that happens between an organism’s death and its discovery as a fossil.

La Brea is both a window and a filter. It reveals the Ice Age, but it reveals it through asphalt.

THE STICKY ARCHIVE OF LOS ANGELES

There is something wonderfully improbable about La Brea. A city famous for reinvention sits above an archive of extinction. Traffic moves along Wilshire Boulevard while methane rises from petroleum formed by ancient marine organisms. 

People walk through Hancock Park above the remains of mammoths, dire wolves and sabre-toothed cats. The past is not somewhere else. It is directly beneath the picnic blanket. Oh, how I would love to dig a little but they frown on that sort of thing in parks. Shame. Yes, we can see wonderful examples in the museum, but it is sheer pleasure to excavate yourself.

The Tar Pits preserve death in overwhelming abundance, but their scientific value lies in what they reveal about life. Their fossils tell us what animals ate, how they were injured, which plants grew around them and how ecosystems responded as the climate changed. Tiny seeds document shifting vegetation. Tooth enamel preserves chemical evidence of diet. Bones record growth, disease and survival.

Even the strange abundance of carnivores tells a story. One trapped herbivore could attract several predators. One tempting meal could produce fossils studied tens of thousands of years later.

The asphalt waited. The animals approached, encouraged by hunger and betrayed by optimism.

And the Earth kept every receipt.

Image Credit: Asset id: 2278428163. Prehistoric bones and the skull of saber-tooth cat, Smilodon fatalis, in a block of resin at the La Brea Tar Pits, Los Angeles, California.