The downside of reef building?

I was reviewing text for a website a few weeks back dealing with aspects of the history of life, and a couple of things struck me about biological reefs. First, a quick look at reef-builders through time (a useful overview can be found here if you'd prefer more flesh on the bones, or corallites or shells or whatever may be more appropriate):

The first multicellular reef-builders were the archaeocyathan sponges, who flourished briefly in the Cambrian but did not even make it to the end of the period. Corals, in the form of rugose and tabulate corals, spread in the Ordovician but took a while to make reefs. They were joined by stromatoporoid sponges (layered like stromatolites, spelled like stromatolites, but not stromatolites) and various microbes, with the Devonian being an apex of reef-building. The classic stromatoporoid-tabulate reefs of the Devonian went kaput in the End-Devonian extinction. Permian reefs were a conglomeration of just about everything that couldn't get out of the way: various algae, sponges, bryozoans, and other less obvious things. This assortment bought it at the end of the Permian. False starts with scleractinian corals in the first part of the Mesozoic gave way to the rudist bivalves in the Cretaceous. The rudist reefs went out with non-avian dinosaurs, marine reptiles, pterosaurs, ammonites, and so forth at the end-Cretaceous extinction. Finally we get to the big scleractinian coral reefs in the Cenozoic, with some sponge and oyster reefs and such for variety.

So far, a typical pattern: group of organisms branches into reef building, reefs spread and become ecologically complex, reefs flourish for a while, mass extinction wipes out reefs. Then after a hiatus reefs become fashionable again, with some other group laying the foundation for a new iteration, and the cycle continues. A couple of observations come to mind. First, reefs seem to be an obvious evolutionary path for immobile marine invertebrates. It may take some time, but some group always takes up the baton after another falters.

Then, the other shoe. What happens to the previous reef-builders? Seen any archaeocyaths lately? Any vacation packages advertising stromatoporoid reef visits for their island getaways? Run across any rudists while snorkeling? Could it be that once a group goes all-in on the reef habit, it's stuck with it?

Furthermore, reefs have a habit of getting smacked in mass extinction events. Does a reef inherit a narrowing range of environmental restrictions from its components as its complexity increases? Does it become vulnerable to unpredictable instability, such as some minor constituent going through a bad patch leading to collapse via a Rube Goldbergian-cascade of events? More broadly, does reef building amount to an evolutionary Faustian bargain, in which a group becomes dominant for a while by locking itself into a doomed arrangement? (Granted, we're all doomed in the final analysis, but some of us are more obviously doomed than others.) Or am I just playing the gloomy Minnesotan?

Rockford, Part 2: Fossils (exclusive of brachiopods)

Before we get into the festivities, I've recently written an article for the online magazine Agate, about identifying common Paleozoic fossils of Minnesota. It's a compact summary that covers the most abundant groups, so if you're looking for something like that, go have a look!

In our previous post we had a look at the geology of the Fossil & Prairie Park Preserve of Floyd County, Iowa, also known as the Rockford site. For this post I'm going to briefly detail the fossils I collected, with the exception of the brachiopods, which will get a post of their own. For most of the non-brachiopods, I didn't get too far into the weeds on taxonomy, because many of the groups don't lend themselves to simple eye-checks for genera and species. Horn corals and bryozoans, for example, usually require thin sections, and crinoid columnals are generally only diagnostic of the presence of crinoids. I did, though, have recourse to Fenton and Fenton (1924) and other peoples' identifications to get some ideas.

Uŋčí Makhá Park 2024: another winter, more echinoderms

Two years after opening, Uŋčí Makhá Park can be considered a paleontological gem in the Twin Cities. With its Magnolia Member bedding planes, side cuts through the Magnolia and Carimona, easy access, and lack of vehicle traffic, it's nigh-on perfect for getting in touch with St. Paul as it was about 454–453 million years ago. It's kind of like our own Carnegie Quarry wall, except it's tiny marine invertebrates rather than dinosaurs, it probably wasn't planned, and you can walk right out over it. It's always fun to get to spend time there for work, and like last year, I got the opportunity to assist with a training session for Mississippi National River & Recreation Area seasonals there. Then, of course, I just had to make a quick return trip later to follow up on some things we'd seen.

Uŋčí Makhá Park Revisited, Part 2: Further Fossils

We're now up to the fourth entry in a completely unexpected series on the Platteville–Decorah rocks and fossils of Uŋčí Makhá Park. We've already seen the common fossils from the site, so for this go-round I'm focusing on rarities.

Uŋčí Makhá Park Revisited, Part 1: Freeze-Thaw

After I'd come across the new exposures at Uŋčí Makhá Park last fall, I was very curious about how a Minnesota winter and spring would treat them. After all, these were fresh, with no previous direct exposure to snow, ice, and freeze-thaw cycles. Would they rapidly degrade, or were they made of sterner material? Last week I had the opportunity to spend some quality time at the park, in preparation for and leading a training session for Mississippi National River & Recreation Area seasonals (and if any of the participants happen on this post, hello! I hope you had a good time!).

What were the results of this natural experiment? A few observations:

The Carimona Member of the Decorah (blue-gray upper interval), particularly the blocks used as landscaping, suffered appreciably more than the Magnolia Member of the Platteville (tan lower interval). I attribute this to the greater shale content of the Carimona.

This is a pretty illustrative comparison. The blue-gray block on the upper left is Carimona, and the tan block on the lower right is Magnolia. The Carimona block's upper surface is littered with small chips, while the only chips on the Magnolia block came from the Carimona block. (Note also the large burrow on the Magnolia block.)

More Carimona landscaping showing exfoliation.

This indicates that the Carimona blocks will weather faster than the Magnolia blocks; eventually, both lithologies will reach equilibrium with their new surroundings, but the "fucoidal" surfaces on the landscaping are going to go away faster than the shell beds.

Note the burrows popping off the surface in some places.

It wasn't all smooth sailing for the Magnolia, though. Although many blocks and beds seemed fine, others had definite signs of damage.

Here a thin bed is breaking up.

This isolated block appears to be shattered. (Colors are weird because when I took this photo, I'd forgotten to reset the lighting from tungsten bulbs.)

Unlike last fall, which was a time of drought, this spring we can also definitely see where the seeps are.

And they're concentrated at the bentonite layers in the Carimona.

Many fossils and features came through without particular damage, though. I included a photo of a bivalve in the fossil guide post. Here it is last week:

Dare I say that it's "happy as a clam"? (Ignore the color balance differences.)

With that out of the way, did we find other fossils I hadn't seen in the fall? Well, of course! Tune in next week for some less-typical fossils!

Replacement of Fossils

You might think that getting a shell or bone or wood chunk safely buried is the tough part for fossilization, that once something's entombed in sediment it's all smooth sailing. Burial is certainly important, but it's not the end of the story. A lot of things can happen between deposition and exposure. Pore spaces are filled with new minerals. Existing minerals are replaced. Entire structures can be replaced, then lost. These changes all fall under diagenesis. What exactly happens depends on things like the physical and chemical structure of the object in question, temperature and pressure of burial, and the chemical composition of the fluids in the sediment. Denser fossils like teeth are less vulnerable to changes than more porous materials. The form of calcium carbonate known as aragonite is less stable than calcite. Many different minerals and mineraloids can get involved in the fun; for example, there are opalized fossils and pyritized fossils.

Bivalve mold and internal cast (steinkern). Not pictured: bivalve shell.

Because silica and carbonate minerals are so abundant at typical surface and near-surface temperatures and pressures, they are the minerals most frequently involved. In Minnesota, we generally get dolomitization. This is somewhat inconvenient, because dolomitization has a tendency to destroy fossils, and even when it doesn't, it usually leaves behind molds and casts that aren't as crisp as the original. It's a bit like replacing the Venus de Milo or Michelangelo's David with nothing but 2x4 Lego bricks; you'll notice a difference. Dolomitic replacement may give a fossil a quirky sparkly appearance thanks to the dolomite rhombs, but that's about the only plus. Pervasive dolomitization is why many fossils in the Platteville are gray with a sugary appearance: you're actually looking at a natural mold or cast of the original in dolomite.

Sometimes diagenesis gives you exotic, spectacular fossils, and sometimes it gives you dolomite.

Although once in a while you get something to write home about; this is a nautiloid in the Science Museum of Minnesota collections with its internal structures replaced.

I was inspired to write a note about this topic by a different kind of replacement. Someone reviewing one of my work projects commented on a type of replacement seen in some of the fossils, consisting of circular mineralizations. They informed me this was a kind of silicification known as beekite. This immediately twigged my memory banks, because I'd also seen it in photos of fossils from other work projects. Like dolomitization, it's not exactly faithful reproduction, although it can be aesthetically pleasing.

A beekitized (beekitified?) lower Permian brachiopod, central Kansas.

Quick Guide to Fossils at Uŋčí Makhá Park

So I went back to Uŋčí Makhá Park last weekend and spent a couple of hours taking photos of fossils, because it makes such an ideal place to see the upper Platteville fauna. After all, a winter of freezes and thaws may not leave these new exposures looking as nice as they do now. Here's a quick guide to what can be seen there. (Let's see how many photos I can squeeze into one post, and how many species I can misidentify!)

Determining where you are stratigraphically

First of all, I'd just like to reiterate the stratigraphy. Most of the vertical extent is in the Magnolia Member of the Platteville Formation, with the upper part composed of the Carimona Member of the Decorah Shale. I'm thinking more or less the entire extent of the Carimona is exposed, based on thickness; at any rate the next thing up would be the shaly part of the Decorah, and there isn't a trace of it to be seen. I'm suspicious because the difference is just so darn clear, but at this site there is an unmistakable color change between the two units: the Carimona is the upper blue-gray interval and the Magnolia is the light tan-gray interval below. The Deicke K-bentonite is the lower and thicker of the two bentonite gaps in the Carimona. (Note that the Carimona is sometimes supplemented or replaced by landscaping, but this is pretty obvious.) As you walk from south to north, the "floor" goes up stratigraphically, so it's not all one bedding plane but a gently rising series of planes, until by the exit you're close to the color change.

The color change is quite evident here. The Deicke K-bentonite is the cut-in about halfway up the blue-gray Carimona (above the scale bar in the center of the photo).

Here we've gone north, and the floor has risen. The Deicke is still the seam in the middle of the blue-gray rocks.

Practical applications of Chesapecten, early 19th century

"Fossil pectens of a large size, some of them ten inches wide, are found abundantly in the lower part of Virginia. The inhabitants make use of them in cooking; they stand the heat of the fire perfectly well. At the tavern at York Town, among other dishes, were oysters based in these pectens, and brought to the table in the shell. I wanted the company of a few scientific friends to enjoy the treat. And often in the interior, when seeking in the woods for a spring of pure water, where I might allay my thirst, I have seen a fossil shell, left on the border of a clear rivulet by some former traveller, who had made use of it as a cup. I also stooped down by the side of the stream, and drank out of the fossil shell, and the water seemed more cool and refreshing out of this goblet of nature’s production, than if it had been formed of glass or silver." (Finch 1833)

Chesapecten madisonius, not quite as famous as C. jeffersonius but still quite nice.

References

Finch, J. 1833. Travels in the United States of America and Canada. Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Longman, London, United Kingdom.

Bivalves

The clam. The oyster. The scallop. The mussel. These are not just names suitable for a low-rank themed superhero or supervillain, but they are also common terms used for some of the abundant and diverse members of the class Bivalvia (also known as Pelecypoda in some references, and Lamellibranchiata if you go back far enough or have a desire to be "that person"). We've already seen the difference between the functional and technical usage of the term "bivalve" with brachiopods, now we get the bivalves that "are" bivalves.