As I walk across the beach, waves lapping at my bare feet, I open the worn leather book and start reading:

2024/05/27

I cannot believe it! Tomorrow is graduation day, and Lizzy and I will finally become full-blown climatologists! I can’t describe how excited I am right now, but I’m sure that the me reading this right now remembers, right? If not, just know that the you from 2024 is very disappointed… Anyways, welcome to my Earth journal! I’m making this book to record my journey towards my biggest goal in life: to stop climate change. I know that this journey will be hard and long, but I’m confident that we can achieve it. Although humanity has made many mistakes, we’ve managed to overcome them all, so this time, I’m sure we will do the same!

2031/08/13

Today, Lizzy and I went to the rally we organised outside our local government building. Standing amidst the seas of people chanting and waving plaques, I was filled with hope: We are finally getting there, rallies like this are going on across the world, and many of them have yielded good results! We’ve already managed to push China and India to finally pass more comprehensive environmental laws, and we’ve also managed to clean up most of the floating garbage patches around the world…

…but what is this empty feeling inside of me?

Lizzy’s research is still showing rising temperatures and ice caps are only about half the size of what they once were at the start of the century. Uh, better not think about it that way, gotta be optimistic! Although the situation is very urgent, I’m sure we can push through!

2038/02/05

The government has just ordered all desalination plants to include special filters to remove microplastics from seawater. This is the latest in a series of efforts to decrease the amount of microplastics citizens like us unknowingly consume, but why put so much effort into stopping plastic from getting into our mouths when you can stop plastics from going out there in the first place? Rising sea levels are also affecting more and more places around the world, all permanent residents of Venice were evacuated last year, as the city has been deemed unsafe at high tide. This was especially saddening to Lizzy, who has always wanted to travel there. She still can, but a city is but an empty shell without its people. It’s only now that everyone notices how much of an impact climate change and pollution are having on Earth. 

I want to believe that it’s not too late, I want to believe we can still pull through, but the numbers say otherwise — and numbers aren’t known to lie.

2039/08/26

Lizzy wasn’t feeling very well today, and so I took her to the doctor. While she was getting her consultation, I saw a news report on my phone:

‘…the largest hurricane ever recorded, super-hurricane Anna, had been confirmed forming in the Atlantic Ocean, authorities urge all residents living in any of the states along the East Coast to evacuate inland.  “We assure you that we have the situation under control,” says head of the National Weather Service, Mitchell Anderson, “We just need your cooperation to ensure a fast and safe evacuation…’

Although I’d rather not admit it, I saw this coming quite a while ago. Still, the news shocked me enough that I burst into the consultation room to tell Lizzy about it. The Lizzy that I saw was far from the bright, positive person I had always known. I told her about the super-hurricane brewing in the Atlantic, and she merely nodded, lost in her thoughts. The doctor, sensing that I was someone important, asked Lizzy for permission, and told me something that will likely be seared into my memory for the rest of my life:

“We have ascertained that she has severe kidney damage as well as a few other problems… I have no other way to put this but… she may not have long to live.”

2041/02/04

Lizzy had passed away last week, her kidneys were apparently damaged by excessive intake of heavy metals. Our plastic in the oceans had finally come back to haunt us. The super-hurricane reached catastrophic proportions, reaching as far inland as Tennesee. Millions of people have died, and the death count is still rising. The hurricane’s winds blew so high that the ozone layer above North America was damaged, meaning that some regions are now not suitable for prolonged human habitation, although this has not been disclosed to the public yet in fear of causing mass hysteria. The government has now dissolved many laws restricting production processes and is mass-producing rockets. It seems they are making a last-ditch effort to get humanity out of this dying planet.

I had just flipped through the earlier records I had made, and was somewhat amused by the twisted irony they contain: This journal was started to show recovery of Earth, but it recorded its downfall instead.

This will likely be the last entry in this Earth journal, and maybe the last entry that I’ll ever write. As humans, we have made many mistakes over the years, but this one… might be a bit too big to recover from.

The book sighs with me as I slam it shut, dust clouds puffing out of its pages. 

‘Mm, it’s still quite hard to read,’ I think, feeling some dampness around my eyes.

I walk back to the porch of my house, overlooking a pristine stretch of beach, and shake the sand off my feet. It’s been almost a century or so since the events recorded in this book, but the memories are still as vivid as if they had happened yesterday. I sit down at one of my chairs, and am about to be lost in the stunning view of the azure sea melting into the cloudless sky when I hear a voice behind me:

“It’s almost time for the conference, Matthew,” My AI assistant, Elizabeth, calls from the TV speakers.

“Ah yes. I’ll be right over,” I say. That was close, the last thing I want is to ruin my first impression there.

***

“Welcome to the first annual Planetary Conservation Conference! I am your host, Nathi Kumalo, and I’ll be having the pleasure of introducing to you world-renowned scientist and conservationist Matthew Madson to give us an opening statement.”

I am teleported on stage in the virtual conference, and I gaze at the see of virtual faces looking up at me from below the podium.

“I’m sure that many of you sitting here today are still part of the first generation—born back on Earth and transported here during the Great Migration; therefore, I’m sure many of you have experienced firsthand the devastating consequences that not respecting our environment can have. I’m also sure that many of you have wanted to forget about those miserable, terrifying days, and trust me when I say that I can sympathise. I’ve also thought about doing this once, after all, it seems all like a dream, a nightmare that you made up during your deep sleep in the cryogenics pods — but it’s not. We, as humans, must accept that we have completely destroyed a planet and the life within it. There are still reminders of this, reminders in the too-jagged rocks that litter this place, the too-rough sand on the beach outside my house, the two moons that hang in the sky permanently. Reminders that tell us that we are not at home, but rather a flimsy replica of it. And I’m sure that all of you realise this, that’s why you had the courage to come sit here. We have made a grave mistake, one that we will never be able to set right again, but we can still learn from it, and ensure that we’ll never repeat it ever again.”