[Part 1 – Items from a zoological survey discovered in a derelict Unesco library]
Darwin’s Frogs no longer leap in the shrinking wetlands of Chile
the Formosan Clouded Leopard no longer hunts in the mountains of Taiwan
the Sri Lankan Spiny Eel no longer swims in the rivers of Sri Lanka
the Eskimo Curlew no longer calls over the snowy grasslands of Greenland
the Santa Cruz Pupfish is extinct to be confirmed
the Western Black Rhinoceros no longer trundles across African plains
the Angel Shark no longer swims in the Black Sea latest data 2023
the Crescent Nail-Tailed Wallaby no longer lopes across the Australian Outback
the Giant Golden-Crowned Flying Fox no longer gorges on figs in the forest of Panay
Pallas’s Cormorant no longer fishes in the polluted rivers or toxic lakes of Russia
the Labrador Duck is extinct dead as a Dodo
the Javan Lapwing no longer flaps its wings in Indonesian skies
the Tahiti Sandpiper no longer plaintively pipes on the river banks of Tahiti
even our house sparrows are in the shit
[Part 2 – Gleanings from Professor Avaritia’s papers found in her desiccated garden shed]
there’s a sapient product of natural selection who
no longer harnesses wind-power or utilises solar energy
no longer holidays in the Bahamas or Thailand
no longer cultivates his own garden
no longer considers the categorical imperative
no longer gets the bullet train to work
no longer measures the rise in average temperature
no longer checks in at the inter-city-airport Terminal
no longer rushes home to watch the World Cup
no longer develops a military capability second to none
no longer speculates as to whether she is a brain-in-a-vat
no longer does the school run before nine o’clock
no longer views the Holocaust exhibit of discarded shoes
no longer speculates whether the table still exists if there is no one to see it
no longer does the night shift on the maternity ward
no longer prepares ingenious explosive devices
no longer validates cogito ergo sum
no longer orders ‘seed potatoes’ early from a first-rate suppliers in London
no longer tackles the problem of social isolation among the elderly
no longer checks in at the local gym or does press ups before breakfast
no longer sets a moral compass in line with the Golden Rule
no longer scans next year’s seed catalogue for new variety perennials
no longer formulates any messages of reconciliation or peace
no longer takes the dog for a walk in the park
no longer asks if the ‘free-will defence’ is adequate to account for the problem of evil
no longer speculates what it is like to be a bat
no longer puts flowers on the family headstone
[Part 3 – Requiem]
no longer reproduces
no longer eats
no longer drinks
no longer sleeps
no longer laughs
no longer cries
no longer questions
no longer loves
no longer hates
no longer creates
no longer dreams
no longer breathes
Image:
Eskimo Curlew by Beatrice Forshall
107 x 76 cm
Hand-painted drypoint engraving
From its nesting ground in the High Arctic to the southern extremes of South America, the Eskimo Curlew would make the long and perilous journey southwards, crossing the Atlantic between the East coast of North America and the North East coast of South America. Having hunted the Passenger Pigeon to extinction, people then turned to the Eskimo Curlew. Due to the fact that large quantities of its population were shot and its prairie feeding grounds converted to arable, this bird is now extinct.
Beatrice Forshall‘s work has always drawn upon the natural world, and her printmaking revolves around species and themes central to conservation. She has worked with the International Union for Conservation of Nature; TRAFFIC, the wildlife trade monitoring network; BirdLife International and Flora and Fauna International. She has spent the last year as artist in residence with the Cambridge Conservation Initiative. A percentage of the sales of Beatrice’s prints goes towards front-line conservation projects. You can see more of her work here.
Dark Mountain: Issue 14 TERRA
The Autumn 2018 issue is a collection of prose, photography and printwork about journeys, place and belonging
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A brilliant piece of writing though sombre in tone. I watch birds feeding in my small urban garden , including house sparrows, hedge accentors, goldfinches eating sunflower kernels and niger seeds, dunnocks rummaging in the undergrowth, wood pigeons picking up scraps, neighbours’ cats lurking in the bushes hoping for an extra meal. The pressures of overpopulation and materialism are damaging many parts of planet earth but large tracts of wilderness remain where the fittest may survive.