My Epoch
Geoscientists are starting to use the term Anthropocene to describe the current epoch of geologic time. It’s the period in Earth’s history when human activity started to have a significant impact on the planet’s climate and ecosystems. And I’m pretty good with that if for no other reason than strip mining which can level a mountain in a fraction of the time erosion would take, or open pit mining which does the same thing except it goes down into the ground.
And I bring this up solely because I think I’ve entered a new epoch in my life, hinging on my hike to the top of Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas. I’d like to call it my Guadalupian Epoch, even though we’ve already got one, it’s the middle series of the Permian and it covers the time period 272.3 million to 268.8 million years ago. Although, truth be told, I don’t think anyone would mind if I borrowed the term. Besides, my Guadalupian is unlikely to last that long. I’ll be happy if I get 20 years much less four million.
So, I think I’m going with it. This will be my walking, writing, and singing epoch. I mean, why not? Time has eroded away everything else, and that’s what I’m left with. It’s me and the Chisos mountains, or El Capitan, or my guitar and my books and my computer. Old things weathered, worn, exposed to the elements. It seems fitting. You may even be able to divine that at one point volcanoes erupted within me, but that was long ago, and this is now. A different time. A different age. It’s just me, passing into history.