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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 7, Number 2, June 2013

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Robert Davey
Dereham, Norfolk, England


Fossil Hunters

My son has always liked fossils. One summer I took him to Lyme Regis. In one of the shops we admired the fossils on sale—exquisite specimens painstakingly coaxed from rock. We each bought a rock hammer and headed for the beach.

Jurassic Coast
hope
in every pebble

Below the 190 million year old blue lias cliffs, we found plenty of other fossil hunters, chipping away. Between areas of jumbled stones were patches of solid rock, where the cross sections of ammonites up to two feet across could be seen, their chambers no longer secret.

We set to, splitting pebbles with our hammers. Most contained only bland rock. My son made the first find, a group of tiny Ammonites. He made several more finds that afternoon, all more impressive than mine. He did not want to leave when it grew cold.

climbing
the cliff path
each step an epoch

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