Photo by Cristian Negraia on UnsplashIf it were offered, we would take back the lakes, fight the seasonal algae blooms harder and the silver gelatinous glow-slicks rippling in the wake. We watched birds walk with purposeful caution, fearful to fly hazy mildewed skies, knowing branches caked with tree rot had lost their perch sturdiness. Did you hear that? you asked, your voice shattering an eternal silence. We dropped to the ground, face first, shaking our heads. We heard the chirp of no bird, no flutter of nature, just a groaning, a low hum at what we would come to know as the beginning of the end of everything we once knew.
