Saturday, July 26, 2008

Trout Creek

No immediate destination. I am here. This is where I'll be for the next 20 hours or so. Countless thousands of gallons of water have passed me in the last 30 minutes. The Rock escarpments, 1,000 or so feet above me, show signs of wear from uplift and collapse. It's dry, very, very dry.
Absolutely amazing that the trees and grasses and reeds and sage survive in places like these.
At times in the past, there have been single, cataclysmic events. A result of which is that nothing lives. Nothing we can easily see, that is. Forrest's gone, nothing larger than a chicken survived some of these events.
This phenomena has happened remarkably quickly. For instance, the object that very likely collided with the planet around 65 million years ago. It would have been certain destruction in the immediate vicinity, and perhaps for about a quarter of the circumference of the globe. The impact would have resulted in a nuclear winter. No sunlight, no heat, no photosynthesis, no food for secondary producers, no luck!
Within weeks to months there would be mass starvation, mass distinctions.
But, as most things go, it came to an end. The survivors were now the leaders. Now hundreds of times smaller than their predecessors. Bacteria, insects and plants. From there, things grew along new hereditary planes.
It's the plane that I am on right now. My kids, too. How did I end up here? Where was I before? Where have I been? What will happen next, I am not interested. I did not know before, and it did not concern me.
I currently have no immediate destination. Later that will be different. But that's then. In the mean time, I will enjoy this.