THE RAINFOREST

Stand outside on a cold winter night and take a close look at Orion—the belt, the sword, Betelgeuse and Rigel—stars serenely beaming their light across the light years, through our fragile atmosphere and into our eyes.

Consider how old those stars are—thermonuclear fires burning eon after eon, time beyond human comprehension. When our ancestors were jumping from branch to branch eating insects and fruit, Orion shone down upon them.

Then consider—Earth’s rainforests are older than Orion! When Orion’s stars were mere clouds of contracting gas, the rainforest was already there—a teeming, buzzing, crawling cacophony of life—species upon species—growing, dying, rotting, evolving, ebbing and flowing, surging up and down the mountainsides in time to the ice ages. Orion, where were you when the first tree grew its first leaf? Where were you when the first spider spun its first web? Where were you when the first slime mold sent its first spores into the air and across the Earth? And where will you be when the final chapter of this tale is finally told?