Paul Sereno’s Stone Age graveyard, found in the Sahara desert, contained fish bones. If you know the history of the place, it makes sense; it used to have deep lakes in which Stone Age fishermen caught enormous fish.

But consider, for a moment, working in the dry Sahara heat, no water in sight, or indeed, in the air, and finding the remains of fish. I find such artifacts, from time to time, in my own life, odd pieces of straggling evidence that I was once a different person, living in different circumstances. It’s always jarring. For a moment the old person and the new person must exist together, and however I feel about that former self,  I must accept that she was as she was, that she adapted to the time she lived in, then moved on from there.

Sometimes I also wonder what artifacts from this life will resurface twenty years down the road. What lost note, journal, or dogeared book becomes the fish bones buried in the desert?