Born to Die

As I neared the edge of the mesa, I saw 2 small puddles. This is a rare sight to see on a 6500ft mesa, but we had been "lucky" enough to get a little rain shower a few days prior. Upon closer inspection, I noticed movement in the water. My eastern mind and fleeting perception immediately assumed it was tadpoles or "wrigglers" (the very, very scientific name I always referred to mosquito larvae with), but then I noticed something odd. They appeared to be more rigid and moved differently than tadpoles despite their similar shape. A hard carapace sporting 3 eyes and a segmented tail reminded me of a fun little science project I had done in grade school: A Smithsonian triops or "sea monkeys" kit. Ancient eggs, lost in the eons of time, awoken by water and rising from the sand for a glorious life of several weeks or until a bigger sibling got a little extra hungry.

Triops, a tiny prehistoric member of the crustacea family, are true survivors. In the arid southwestern region of the United States, they dwell mainly in ephemeral pools where their eggs can dry out and go into stasis for nearly 3 decades before expiring. That divot in the rock may appear dry and lifeless for many years, but that quick rain shower proves to show that some of that sand is actually a brilliant example of survival of the fittest. Growing to maturity very quickly, these creatures are in a race against evaporation to breed and lay the next generation before their vernal pool becomes a dry hole once again.

Not only are they brilliant at surviving the weather, but they are also willing to do whatever it takes to survive the hungry predators that take advantage of the extra snacks that are available. Living in solidarity to avoid attracting attention and blending in with their surroundings are two simple ways that they survive, but when algae and zooplankton become scarce, they have another way of nutrition.

When I had my bout with sea monkeys as a youngster, I remember leaving for a night after they had reached maturity, and when I returned home, I was short a few triops. Or at least the majority of them. A few empty carapaces remained, and one particular specimen had grown significantly more than the others in just 48 hours. Without another source of food, they had, without qualm, resorted to cannibalism.

Without my macro lens, I stooped and attempted to get a few shots of the little crustaceans feeding and fighting in a frantic rush to complete their goals before their time ran out. It made me think. As humans, we're not so different. In the chaotic world we live in, it's easy to react poorly to others that were in competition with and those who stand in the way of us achieving our goals because time is a very limited resource and it's certainly non-renewable. But in the end, despite the stress and hardship, we should do everything in our power to treat each other with kindness and respect. We’re not mindless crustaceans; we're intelligent beings. And we should realize that despite differences in political stance, religious belief, sexuality, skin color, age, background, interests, and way of life, we are all valued by a higher power and therefore should be valued by one another.