Trophic Cascade

“Treeman 2” by Leslie Brown

A trophic cascade works like this:

Remove a predator and the prey become more plentiful; the food for those prey becomes less dense. Shift population on one trophic level and the results can be felt in the next—and the one after that. Or perhaps a predator population expands and, as is its nature, lowers the density of its prey. Or the prey go elsewhere, change their tactics, wise up. Well, then, the vegetation becomes lush again. Things grow. It works in both directions: remove either predators or the prey and there is a ripple effect. Every element of the ecosystem is altered against its will.

Some days, I wonder what would happen if I disappeared. Perhaps, one morning, as I am microwaving my coffee for the third time, I simply vanish. I am no longer there to press cancel before the timer goes off. I’m not there to watch the countdown, and the loud beeping frightens the shy cat. Poor dear. Before I can take my next sip, I am gone. And in that vanishing, I am unable to tell you what’s for lunch, where the mittens are, what that one specialist’s name is, when the forms are due. I’m not there to remind you of the words of that one song, or from where you recognize that one guy from that show you like.

Once I vanish, I’m not there to provide all the mundane life support mechanisms that maintain the daily hum of our microcosm. The earth will heal over the memory of me, the way the moss grows on the side of the tree, sprouting from the deep gouges in the side of her trunk. Ferns will grow in the places I’d willingly been unmoored.

I could evaporate at any time, it feels. And, yet, I have been told that it would be, in fact, Very Bad if something happened to me. Disappearance, death, and disintegration are all, it has been pointed out to me more than once, off the table.

But maybe I will be standing in the kitchen, waiting for the toaster oven to reheat a slice of mushroom quiche on a Monday morning. Or emptying the dryer. Or giving the cat some food and absent-mindedly scrolling my phone, because this is what we do when the days feel heavy with waiting for the next thing. I’m reading about the migration of Maryland blue crabs or hitting Add to Cart next to skeins of yarn the color of seaglass.

I am gathering the facts and experiences and ephemera of a life; the ones that will die with me, or vanish when I do. A cascade of institutional knowledge—a presence that had been propping up an ecosystem—eradicated in an instant. Pull the thread, and the whole thing unravels. Or sometimes, with a single strand, you can knit an entire garment. It works in both directions.

What if I disappeared? There is heavy silence in that answer. There would be a steep learning curve that is not impossible, but isn’t intuitive, either.

I read that when Yellowstone Park reintroduced the gray wolves, the deer changed their grazing patterns. And when they weren’t being overeaten by the deer, the trees grew back along the banks of the river. Which gave the beavers something to build with again. The river’s course, as a result, shifted radically. It appeared, from an aerial view, like new neural pathways across the brain of the landscape. A few wolves altered the physical geography of an ancient place.

So do I.

So do you.

about the author

Christy Tending (she/they) is the author of High Priestess of the Apocalypse (ELJ Editions) and Sobriety Through the Major Arcana (kith books). Their work has been published in Longreads,The Rumpus, and Electric Literature, and received a notable mention in Best American Science and Nature Writing 2023. You can learn more about their work atwww.christytending.com or follow Christy on Twitter @christytending.

about the artist

Leslie Brown lives in the Washington DC suburb. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from American University. Her published work includes short videos, short stories, and creative non-fiction, and digital design. Her digital work has been accepted for publication in Closed eye open, Zoetic Press, and NBR: World Tour. Her digital designs have also appeared in Phoebe Literary Journal, Beyond Words, Scapegoat Review, Quibble Lit, and Burningword literary journal.