Seams Like Only Yesterday (edited)

Like young love, those darn seams are driving me crazy. They're as hard to figure out as women. I just can't get a handle on them. Seams are not what they seem.  It seams like I'm dreaming; seams like old times; seams like only yesterday—all my troubles were so far away. It seams like I'll never figure Geology out. Ok, it's early. You we're expecting Thoreau at this hour? Click the "Read More" button to see what I mean and help me (if you can) figure out the "seams" in Valley of Fire.


At first glance one might assume the seams are sedimentary. But closer inspection reveals that they often run perpendicular to each other and surrounding layers of sandstone, and, all the seams are of the exact same thickness... something you wouldn't expect with sedimentary rock formation. 

The composition of the seams is harder than sandstone that sandwiches them (they often protrude above and beyond it) but not so hard that they don't erode with sandstone found in creek bottoms. 

On top, where running water is less forceful, seams remain in place longer than the softer sandstone. Notice the incongruence with sedimentary layers of sandstone below.

Well why don't you just ask the ranger? you say. Because we are no longer in Valley of Fire; the BBC often lags real time. If it wasn't still dark, the view out my window would have a body of water in a slender gap between rugged volcanic mountains. Their summits fade into sodden sad clouds that weep tears of joy for the gift of rain in a dry desert land. Rain in the desert releases the sweet aroma of creosote bush. The scent stirs memories of this former desert rat's Arizona childhood. Inhaling this perfume conjures up images from an innocent age and time when cars had "fins" not unlike the seams in photo number four. I remember playing in our desert front yard, Dad's bold, four inch wide neckties, Mom's mink stole and Sunday-go-to-church bonnets, my fashionable crewcut... "butched" up in front with a Vasoline-like hair gel... and music that fit the times, un-raunchy lyrics and pure melodies you could sing along with your parents. Lucy and Desi had twin beds, and no one came on at intermission telling you to ask you doctor about Viagra. "Daddy? What's Viagra?" God.

Right now, "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" replays in my head... all from the smell of wet Creosote bush. I digress, as usual...