• Like most right things, this feels truly silly. To address you of all things. I try to rationalize it; try to push the true motive back. No matter what I do, I feel like a small child entrusting my thoughts and opinions to her dolls. Not that we have dolls of course. I’m attempting to use human terms. The truth is, your language is easier to decipher. Such a wide variety of words, specific and general. We only see the specific. We couldn’t step back on our own and look at the big picture. In the end “stepping back: probably wasn’t the best idea. I, personally, blame you for that. I suppose that’s the real reason I’m writing this in English. I’m trying to ward off my own guilt. I need a scapegoat, if you will. There’s too much guilt for me, or any one person, to swallow. The destruction of a whole race is no small matter. Now I know better. I think Nature didn’t want us to see the big picture. It made us innocent. Better. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll try to find a proper beginning….

    We’d all heard the rumors of you: some other intelligent species from millions of years ago. We found remnants of your technology. So sophisticated. We couldn’t comprehend it or even create a replica well enough to function. You all seemed so bright, each and every one of you. How were we to know that we were the more advanced ones? I stumbled upon the true treasure trove located in Springfield, Massachusetts. Not yet submerged underwater like many places you used to inhabit. To us, it was a miracle. To humans, it was a mere library. The libraries your civilization shunned as “not fun” and laughed about. The ash of the super-volcano Yellowstone preserved it perfectly. Books. Still legible.

    I led an exclusive team that tapped into your golden reserves. I drank it all in, as fast as I could manage. The extent of you brain capacity revealed itself to me. You seemed capable of anything. I marveled at your existence. How could it end so suddenly? I wrote it off as some freak of nature. How wrong I was… Nature was never the freak; it never will be. We are the freaks. My kind and yours, maybe more to come. Us, the broken abnormalities of the planet. I didn’t understand this then. I divulged myself in your technologies. The secrets of television, radio, boats, automobiles, airplanes, spacecrafts, video games, even plastic. The enormous energy that is oil. Your medicines and hygiene.

    Each recovered technology was a seed of guilt planted in my report. The report I published too early, with research still incomplete. The seeds grew and planted replicas of themselves into my society by the time I had learned better. I continued my research, stepping into your shoes, becoming you. I even became fluent in English, the only one of your languages I could fully decipher. It was late when I found the book that brought me light. The others had already retired to their beds. I sat alone, feeding my quiet addiction. As an addict, I suffered from withdrawals when I took my eyes away from the words of wisdom on your pages. The words of those much greater than I could ever hope to be. It was a humbling experience. What I read brought it all crumbling down.

    “We are finished. We are sick. Nothing more can be done. We wasted away the Earth. Eroded the brilliant green. Eroded it down to nothing more than us, a dark grey. The color of smoke. Pollution. Nature’s poison. We’ve cleaned ourselves to death. Scrubbed every speck of filth away until one germ could destroy our nearly non-existent immune system. Meanwhile, we simultaneously released tons of clouds of death into the air we breathe every day. We’ve been quite silly. People are dropping like flies. This is the end.”



    I didn’t pay attention to the author. It didn’t matter. I knew he was speaking directly to me. It was a warning. But it was too late. As I read, the seeds grew into vines, spreading throughout my world. Penetrating its soul and seeping the dark grey poison in. The grey would overtake the green. I couldn’t save it. That same day we had used your technology to discover Neil Armstrong’s footsteps on the moon. It was already deeply embedded. Undetectable. Unstoppable. Society never goes in reverse. This is why I despise you. It was no freak of Nature. You killed yourselves and as much of the Earth as you could. You were trying to take the green with you. Still, some survived. Grey turned on itself before finishing it of. Now grey is weak. It hid underneath the remains of ancient ash, dormant. I’ve unleashed it again. Through curious me, you’re poisoning the green again. Nature’s biggest mistake is you. It will haunt her forever. I write this in your language so perhaps I can feel some relief. In my small mind I feel I’ve taught you some sort of lesson. I only wish it really could travel back in time. This is my message to humankind, my kind, and all the kinds to come:

    Mother Nature is a creature of her own. It is the most permanent thing we will ever know. You don’t exist for education or entertainment. Those are merely side notes. There is no heaven or hell to work for. Earth made us like everything else. To contribute to the good of the planet and those that reside on it. Nature hones us to perfection, to work in perfect balance. Somewhere she made a mistake. She made us smart, but not smart enough. We learned her secrets, but in return we beat her. Without her we suffocate. When we wound her, we cripple ourselves. Be smart enough to deserve her. Be smart enough to learn from others’ mistakes. Learn to live in harmony with her or not at all. Make your presence on Earth neutral, or better yet, positive. I wish you better luck than I had. I hope this warning is proper enough. I hope whoever you are, you get it in time.


    -Small One