Every second, Earth continues its footsteps on a journey around the sun.
Every day, the globe slips a little farther into eternity, and millions of birds fold into a forgotten pocket of time. Like robots, they are produced and then fall apart to dust, leaving only their copies to pass
on genes molded by millennia of death.
Every week, billions of birds rise and collapse in a constant battle waged for survival, a war long left behind by the first-world human.
And then it happens. A species of bird is forgotten completely. Any sign of its physical presence is erased. Its genes are forgotten and vapid. And only one of the 8.7 million discovered species on Planet Earth might know and remember that the bird ever existed. Sometimes that one species even makes an effort to refind the bird, cling on to the hope that it is still there. Because with every bird that is forgotten by the Earth and time, we come startlingly close to facing the reality that we too, one day, will slip into the same crack of forgetfulness, and with it, the countless records of all the forgotten creatures and organisms that we have taken down with us.