Aggregated News
Sometime in the summer of 1914, probably on September 1st but perhaps a few days earlier, the last passenger pigeon on earth expired. The bird, named Martha, had spent most of her life at the Cincinnati Zoo. Up until a few years before her death, she had a companion, George, who shared her ten-by-twelve-foot cage. Whether the two ever tried to mate is unknown. Like the Washingtons, they remained without heirs.
At the time, Martha’s death was seen as a remarkable and tragic event; just a few decades earlier, the passenger pigeon had been the most abundant bird in North America, with flocks so immense that they blocked the noonday sun. When Martha’s lifeless body was discovered—it was claimed that she’d died surrounded by “a hushed group of distinguished ornithologists,” but more likely she died alone—it was taken to the Cincinnati Ice Company, frozen into a three-hundred-pound block, and shipped to the Smithsonian.
A century later, Martha’s demise seems a good opportunity to reflect on what Rachel Carson called “the problem of sharing our earth with other creatures.” And, indeed...
At the time, Martha’s death was seen as a remarkable and tragic event; just a few decades earlier, the passenger pigeon had been the most abundant bird in North America, with flocks so immense that they blocked the noonday sun. When Martha’s lifeless body was discovered—it was claimed that she’d died surrounded by “a hushed group of distinguished ornithologists,” but more likely she died alone—it was taken to the Cincinnati Ice Company, frozen into a three-hundred-pound block, and shipped to the Smithsonian.
A century later, Martha’s demise seems a good opportunity to reflect on what Rachel Carson called “the problem of sharing our earth with other creatures.” And, indeed...
.jpg){kind=link}