The following short story is inspired by Julie Julison’s photographs.
I take a step forward as the rubble rolls under my stiff shoes. Cracks mar the surface of the path as I force myself on my daily walk through what’s left of Detroit. They tell us to stay inside because of the air and because of the heat. People rarely go outside anymore.
And what have we become? As I walk through this crumbling alley, I ask myself, what have we become? We have lost it all in a matter of two hundred years. But that isn’t true, is it? They say the Earth started to ask questions when we began ripping her to pieces to make space for agricultural land nearly 12,000 years ago. They say the Earth started to hurt during the industrial revolution as factories breathed out carbon dioxide and methane that chocked the atmosphere. They say the Earth started to cry on July 14, 1945 when a nuclear bomb test took place in New Mexico leading way to future destruction around the world. They say the Earth started to beg as temperatures began to rise causing harmful algae to bloom, biodiversity to drop, and ice caps to melt. They say the Earth suddenly became quiet, too quiet. And then there was nothing left except for the few species that thrived in extreme temperatures.
I stand here and wonder when we stopped listening to the Earth, or if we had even stopped to listen at all. In one of the few books left after the third Great War in 2050, I read about something called ecosystems and biodiversity. From what I could gather, we used to have many diverse ecosystems where a range of creatures lived in mutual dependence. But as habitats began to disappear, so did biodiversity.
That’s false. Habitats did not disappear. They were destroyed by us. Of course, they longer exist, nor does biodiversity.
We all know now that biodiversity loss meant invasive species and diseases. Biodiversity loss meant harmful toxins in our fresh water sources. Biodiversity loss meant extinction. Biodiversity loss meant a loss of genetic diversity that is essential to adapting to changing environments and diseases. Biodiversity loss meant our demise.
I pull at one of the branches from a tree that has sprouted from the cracks in the ground. The leaves feel rough under my fingertips, and I begin to sweat as the sun beats down on me in mid-November.
It’s a strange feeling, seeing such foreign growth in the city. I’ve heard that there used to be tulips in the spring and small round-leaved orchis in the fall. Now we only see alder buckthorn and floating primrose-willow that have pushed out native plant species. Spotted lanternflies that thrive in heat have killed our grapes, apples, and hardwood trees. There’s no doubt that we’ve created the perfect climate for destruction and loss.
I shield my eyes with my hand as I face the sun’s glare. I start to roll up my sleeves but decide it isn’t worth the sunburn I’ll get within 20 minutes. I’ve only been out for ten minutes but I can already feel myself begin to sway. I turn to trudge back home. Tomorrow, I’d try again. As long as there is still a tomorrow, we can all try again. Baby steps.
The following are references that are concerned with ideas presented in this short story. They may also present as useful readings on the Anthropocene.
Carson, R. (1962). Silent Spring. Fawcett Books.
Doubek, J.P., C.C. Carey, and B.J. Cardinale. (2015). Anthropogenic Land Use is Associated with N-Fixing Cyanobacterial Dominance in Lakes Across The Continental United States. Aquatic Sciences, 77: 681–694.
Ellis, E.C. (2018). Anthropocene: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press.
Kolbert, E. (2014). The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History. Picador.
Lewis, S.L, and M.A. Maslin. (2015). Defining the Anthropocene. Nature, 519: 171-180.
Lovejoy, T.E. and L. Hannah. (2019). Biodiversity and Climate Change: Transforming the Biosphere. Yale University Press.
Love it!!!