Title: Wept in Stone: A Geological Sob Story of the English River Formation. Voltaire once said, "God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh." With apologies to Voltaire, let's adjust that slightly: the English River Formation is a eons-old tragicomedy for an audience too geologically ignorant to appreciate it. This is the heartbreaking saga of an obscured, obscure, fossil-rich formation that is buried to be forgotten, wept in stone and along with it, weeps our appreciation for the lineage of earth’s narrative. It was a seasonal, rainy afternoon when I was introduced to the English River Formation in Illinois. Situated amongst the maze of cornfields, far away from the hullabaloo of Chicago, lies this delicate relic of time dating back to the Carboniferous period. With my handy spade and litany of mosquito repellent, I embraced myself to navigate through the contours of time. But alas! A cookie-cutter suburban development, "Cretaceous Corners" (where every home comes with its own low-quality concrete dinosaur), was being erected right on top of this archaeological goldmine. Did I let loose a tear, perhaps two, for the fossils frozen forever under the foundation of a bungalow with a two-door garage? Absolutely – a PhD in Geology demands that kind of sentimentality. It’s heartbreaking to witness eons of natural history being replaced with false-finished granite countertops and PVC vinyl windows. But such is the fate of the English River Formation: a heroine punished by the cruel hand of development, loved by few and ignored by many. However, each excavation spells a new chapter in this tear-jerking drama. On my last visit before the bulldozers invaded, I stumbled upon a preserved fossil of a fern, a poignant reminder of a time when Illinois was a tropical paradise, not just a paradise for deep-dish pizza lovers. Yet, somewhere between baseball, skyscrapers, and apple pie, we have lost our earnest appreciation for the organic narrative of our realm. These fossils serve as epitaphs of time, tombs echoing tales from epochs we can barely comprehend. They are silent heroes embedded in the rocks; sages encapsulating more than 300 million years of Earth’s history. Sadly, such deep time is inconsequential to the yearly property tax bill. Poetic? Certainly not. Heartbreaking? More than stepping on Lego barefoot. Ironically, the very act of preserving these fossils through sedimentation and mineralisation makes them an easy target for destruction. They are not like the robust pyramids of Egypt or the resilient Great Wall of China. They lie beneath the surface, hidden from the casual eye. They are the timid, introverted entities of history who have their secrets preserved in the layers of shales and sandstones, weeping in silence, waiting for an enthusiast geologist to reveal their tales - or for a fossil-unfriendly chainsaw to turn their story into rubble. Wept in stone indeed. The English River Formation, in all its fossil-laden glory, is a testament to the anthems of time layered and solidified. It is a geological sob story that echoes the realities of our prevailing oblivion towards the footprints of Earth's past. As city dwellers sip on their gasoline-derived polystyrene cups, the fossils lie in silence, whispering tales of a past that was once teeming with life. All while the landowner, with the Atlas of Expensive Tiling in one hand, plans which fossil-rich strata will look best in his new guest bathroom. Satire indeed, but in the burden of destructive advancement, are we not subconsciously prying open Pandora's box? As we elegantly destroy what history left for us to cherish and learn, a sob echoes through time - the sob of the forgotten English River Formation.