The chambered nautilus demonstrates a marvelous grace that is next to impossible to describe. The name nautilus is derived from Latin for “sailor.” And indeed, it has traversed the world’s oceans for millions of years, virtually unchanged. Some may think that a failure of evolution; but in its enduring form it has proven this assumption wrong. Human beings have only walked this earth for a blip of its sojourn, a mere 200,000 years. And, given our penchant for avarice and aggression, it is not yet clear we will survive even a fraction of a blip more.
Biologists around the world have been racing against time to collect as much information as they can about species like the nautilus. Species that are now imperiled with imminent extinction. It is a noble pursuit, if not one racked with sorrow. The Anthropocene Epoch, or the age of homo sapiens, is defined by our continued destruction of the climate and every ecosystem on earth. Epochs are generally identified by what, or in this case who, has the greatest influence. What’s ironic is that although this epoch bears our name our species is unlikely to survive long enough to see its end. And sadly, the devastation we have wrought will continue long after we are gone.
It is debatable whether the damage our species has done will prevent this planet from seeing another epoch of life emerge. But there is hope. Extremophiles like the tiny tardigrade, or water bear, prove that life can beat odds that we humans would never stand a chance at. Like the nautilus, the tardigrade stands as a living testament to perpetuity. Extreme heat, extreme cold, cosmic radiation, no water, none of that matters to this remarkable creature.
Perhaps in a few hundred thousand or even millions of years, after the radioactive fallout from our reckless ventures in nuclear technology abate, and the seas return to a liveable pH balance, species like these will once again ignite an explosion of life on this planet. Maybe the conditions will be right for one of these species to evolve toward a complex society. We will never know. But we can only hope that if they do they will have the wisdom to avoid our mistakes and follies. And maybe, unlike us, they will be able to sustain a deeper and lasting appreciation for this life drenched ball in space we call earth.
Reblogged this on Industrial Civilization – A Cult of Death.