on our last road trip, jenn and i visited dinosaur provincial park in alberta. we loved it.
the park had everything necessary to be a self-sufficient dinosaur-themed camping adventure. if i had gone when i was 7, i would have cum in my pants, but even as an adult, i was still wowed. there really was something for everyone.
but my favourite part of the park — one of my fave parts of the whole trip, actually — was one particular dinosaur bone display. this one:
it’s tough to tell from that pic but it’s a large, bipedal, duck-billed thing that was uncovered relatively intact. instead of removing the bones and putting them in a museum, they were left in situ and a locked, mostly glass building was erected around them. it’s like a museum display in the desert. there are also pictures, information placards, and recordings there to tell you about that particular dinosaur and how it likely ended up there.
i don’t really care a whole hell of a lot about dinosaurs. they’re fine but i don’t get off on them now like i did when i was 7. but this display really connected with me. i think that seeing the skeleton laying there, just as the poor beast had fallen millions of years ago, allowed me to see it like you see a roadkill in the ditch. when i see roadkill, i think “that thing used to be alive not too long ago. it was running along here, eating and breathing and fucking, just like every other creature, and then it was struck down” — i still see it as a living thing, just a living thing that recently died. and i’ve never thought that about a dinosaur before. every other time i’ve seen dinosaur bones, i’ve thought “wow, that’s big,” or whatever but i never really comprehended them sharing this same space with us, just like racoons and bears and cats and dear and everything else around here. seeing the remains of this dinosaur where it had fallen and died allowed me to see it as more of a (formerly) living, breathing, dynamic creature, instead of something sterile and static, a dusty display in a museum. it blew my mind.
even cooler was that afterwards, jenn and i hiked through the blistering badland heat and sun and wind and talked about the display. before i could even start my long-winded blathering, jenn echoed the very sentiments i just put down here. i was amazed that she experienced the same epiphany as i did from that display, and it made me wonder how many other people have felt it too.
i didn’t quite cum in my pants but i basically blew a brain load on that one. i still think it’s pretty neat.