Megadrought in Southwest Is Now the Worst in at Least 1,200 Years Headline, State of the Planet
I. 800 years before present When did we know it was time to leave?It was when every day was ash and sand,when we no longer heard the Verdin birds joinin the morning chorus, when the Costas winged west and left us songless, left us with dry mouths, unable to whistle, too alone to sing.
The thrashers were the last, their scythed billsrattling in tongues, a sign that even the deadamong us recognized. We of our people who remained heard the echos, followed the insistent whit-whit-wheet–their final warning – away. No one looked back. All was salt.
Ahead we found rock that wept water, like the tears we’d been too dry to shed. There we carved our homes. There our children didn’t know the times when birds drank dust. There, we remembered our deadless and less as the rains washed us of our loneliness.
II. 2o years after presentAnd here again, we live in the dry times, our rivers muck, our birds flown, our gardens bone and brush. We are captive behind walls built of faucets and electric outlets, screensand talking heads. Now, the pipes flow with rust, our devices dark, our pantries empty.
And on the other side, the long walk.We’ve no creatures to track to some bountiful place so we follow each other, none of us wise. We walk in circles. There is no place to go. We should have known before we set our homes on fire.
