William
A. DiMichele in the Springfield Coal. The dark mass is a coal seam; the
lighter shale above is interrupted by a fossil tree stump
In the clammy depths of a southern Illinois coal mine lies the largest fossil forest ever discovered, at least 50 times as extensive as the previous contender.
Scientists are exploring dripping passages by the light of headlamps,
mapping out an ecosystem from 307 million years ago, just before the
world’s first great forests were wiped out by global warming. This vast prehistoric landscape may shed new light on climate change today.
Dating from the Pennsylvanian period of the Carboniferous era, the
forest lies entombed in a series of eight active mines. They burrow
through the rich seams of the Springfield Coal, a nationally important
energy resource that underlies much of Illinois and two neighboring
states and has been heavily mined for decades.
Pushed downward over the ages by the crushing weight of rock layers
higher up, the Springfield forest lies at varying depths, 250 to 800
feet underground. The researchers have only sampled it so far, in the
vicinity of Galatia, Illinois, but they think it extends more than 100
miles in one direction; its width has not been ascertained. An earlier
discovery by the same team, the Herrin Coal forest farther north in Illinois, is just two miles long.
“Effectively you’ve got a lost world,” said Howard Falcon-Lang,
a paleontologist at Royal Holloway, University of London, who has
explored the site. “It’s the closest thing you’ll find to time travel,”
he added.
Curiously, the forest can be viewed only from below. The scientists
crane their necks, illuminating the ceiling with miners’ helmet lamps.
Hundreds of millions of years ago, trees and other plants grew atop
thick peat that eventually compressed into coal; when that was
excavated, the forest’s fossilized remains could be seen in the mine’s
shale ceiling.
“It’s a botanical Pompeii, buried in a geological instant,” said William A. DiMichele,
a paleobiologist and curator of fossil plants at the Smithsonian
Institution in Washington and one of the forest’s discoverers. He
believes it was gently entombed by floods that successively washed
through a swamp.
A river as wide as the Mississippi snaked through the fossil-forest
landscape; its course is still clearly visible. As the climate grew
drier with rising temperatures in the late Carboniferous period,
rainfall became seasonal and pounded sediment out of the soil, filling
the river with silt. This suffocated the forest as the river spilled
over its banks.
The flooding was incremental and gradual, hardly ruffling the fern
leaves that it entombed in mud and that can be seen, down to the
smallest frond, on the ceilings of the coal mines.
Huge fossilized trees still stand rooted in their original but compacted
soil, surrounded by the litter of leaves that once fluttered down.
Primitive, lizardlike reptiles were then evolving in the swamps, but
there are almost no animal fossils in the Springfield forest — save for
the occasional cockroach wing — since such creatures easily fled the
rising waters.
Such snapshots of the very distant past — tens of millions of years
before the age of dinosaurs — are hard to come by. “It is
extraordinarily rare to get fossil forests of any extent at all,” said Kirk Johnson,
a paleobotanist at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science.
“It’s
usually just a few trees here and there. But here is an ancient
geography — effectively unheard of.”
Dr. DiMichele and colleagues have explored a five-mile path, or
transect, starting at the ancient riverbank and arrowing through the
swamp. Just as if this were a living forest, they have stopped along the
route to identify individual leaves or study fallen trunks. Moving away
from the river, a dense thicket of seed ferns gives way to tree ferns
and low ground cover. Farther out, tree ferns are dwarfed by forest
giants called scale trees.
“It was a Dr. Seuss world,” Dr. Johnson said of the scale-tree forests:
sun-washed quagmires studded with giant green stalks like asparagus
spears, hundreds of feet tall. (Scale trees did not unfurl spreading
crowns until the very end of their life cycle.) Dr. DiMichele has
followed a fallen scale tree for 100 feet, before it disappeared behind
coal not yet mined away. Six feet wide at the base, it was hardly any
narrower at that great height.
Scale trees had reptilian-looking, photosynthetic bark that coal miners
sometimes mistake for dinosaur remains. Tube-shaped with spongy pulp
inside, the trees snapped in two when storms ravaged the swamp. Immense,
cylindrical roots kept stumps firmly upright, as seen in the mines.
By coincidence, the earliest ancestor of these scale trees has just been
discovered in a fossil forest in New York State. Repairs at Gilboa Dam,
north of the Catskills, uncovered the floor of what may be the world’s
oldest forest, scientists reported last month
in the journal Nature. Dating from the Devonian Period, it is 78
million years older than the Springfield find, but the mapped remains
are much smaller, covering about a third of an acre.
There were no birds in the Pennsylvanian period, so insects flourished
in the oxygen-rich air. Hiking through the Springfield forest would have
meant dodging millipedes six feet long and dragonflies the size of crows.
And yet the fossil leaves show much less chewing by insects than the
vegetation in our modern backyards. Animals had barely evolved
herbivory, the habit of eating live plants, and instead subsisted on
putrefying remains in the fetid swamp.
Two million years later — a geological eye blink — came vast extinctions
of plants, wiping out many of the species found in the Springfield
forest. The mighty scale trees all died off.
Their modern relatives are
quillworts, just six inches high.
The reach of the Springfield forest should allow scientists to undertake
ecosystem-wide analyses in a way never before possible in landscapes so
ancient, and such studies may help them predict the effects of global
warming today.
“With our own CO2 rises and changes in climate,” said Scott D. Elrick, a
team member from the Illinois State Geological Survey, “we can look at
the past here and say, ‘It’s happened before.’ ”
Today, we burn the scale trees of the Carboniferous by the billions:
they have all turned to coal. Newly discovered, the Springfield forest
is already crumbling to bits, as coal-mine ceilings quickly do after
exposure. But with continued mining, more ceilings are being revealed
every day.
“You have to dig to find fossils, going inside the anatomy of the
planet,” Dr. Johnson said. “Bill DiMichele realizes he has an entire
industry digging for him, creating a tunnel into an ancient world.”
By W. BARKSDALE MAYNARD@The New York Times Science
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