Is there any chance that we have not yet lost our last chance to halt this next fire age?Did the theropods see it coming, that Mesozoic meteor, hell-bending to earth? Did they see it coming and stare, as powerless to stop it as we are apparently powerless to stop this planetoid that our gods have given us? Did the thieving omnivores upon all fours go scurrying for useless shelter and die with the eggs of their predators poaching on their pre-mammalian tongues? Did the pteranodons’ leathery wings burst from their airy bones, crackling like a shower of sparks after fireworks--like fading applause after the last encore? Did brontosaurs and ceratopsians bloat and rupture in that searing furnace or simply fall over into the mud, resting like the roast on the carving board? And is that how some distant, descended denizen of the dark corners will find us, with the dry grass of history burned to ash in our mouths, our brains boiled in their pans, or will they find us with just the charred remains of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches clenched in our glassy, fossilized jaws?
Note: My apologies to Linda. This image of a creature being found with its last meal in its mouth has haunted me since I read her piece recently. I was fascinated with the idea of extending the time-frame further into the past and further into the future and….what if that creature was human? Her poem (one of many excellent pieces that she is cranking out on a daily basis—check her blog out!) found me during a week-long stretch of 70+ degree(F) weather in the central US in the first week of December. I’m afraid that image and the weather took me to a much different, darker place.