Natural Curiosities: Tower Records

It can feel so good to embrace a massive hunk of geology. To find a piece of slick, flat granite or sun-blasted basalt, then to spread out and lie on it, face to the sky, warmth from below creeping into your bones. Hugging a big boulder is nice, too. Walk up to the base of a giant cliff and try to resist the urge to give it a palm-first pat—impossible. Perhaps the draw is that it’s an elemental object. That the rock is ancient, maybe millions of years old and will stand in this place a million more. Rock is a stoic observer of this world, seemingly unmoving and unchanging save for the slow scouring pad of erosion and occasional rockfall. And yet, ironically, that same unyielding, inanimate rock can feel nearly alive.

Perhaps that’s because we’re sensing the rock’s unique vibrations. Because, oh, they vibrate. Not, like cosmic vibrations (though, maybe—more on that in a bit), but real, measurable vibrations. Even the