The Times to Come

The effects of the object were at first minimal. The object was visible for several days while it was closest, noticed by the keen of eye, and marveled at by the keen of mind. Bands of early humans on several continents pondered the object, ignorant that it would ultimately cause their demise. Because of the object’s gravitational pull, the bodies of water of Earth experienced an immensely strong tide, but as the object faded back into the darkness, the tides and the skies both returned to normal.

But normality was not to reign long. Ten days pass, and only now do some organisms notice the changes. Every plant on Earth experiences a significant lapse in growth while the winds have grown cool the world over. The oceans, adept at holding heat, have hardly changed.

As more days pass, the effects grow. Three months after the object’s approach, sustained cold weather pushes the temperate and polar regions into a sudden winter. Meanwhile, the tropical regions experience an almost unprecedented coldness. The oceans, too, are cooling, as surface waters are noticeably less warm. Still the ocean is much warmer than the air, causing damp, warm winds to rise from the oceans’ surface and to blow over the land. As a result, snow falls in cooler regions and cold rains pelt tropical ones.

Some organisms prepare for winter while others attempt to sit the cold snap out. Even in the tropics, animals retreat to their hovels, while plants brace themselves for cold weather damage. Since the orbit of the Earth is more elliptical now, the planet received slightly more heat during its perihelion, slowing the advance of the cold winds for but a short time. 

Migratory animals march steadily toward the equator, settling down in ever less polar regions, following their preferred temperatures. Many of these animals are confused, looking for cues from the unfamiliar wind and weather, and thus can hardly navigate. Snow smothers the northern edges of taigas and tundras, as the snows of last year fail to melt completely before the next winter. The tropics are suffering, as steadily lowering temperatures damage plant tissues beyond repair, and starving animals venture out to gather as many resources as they can before hiding in their retreats.

The oceans, having lost much of their surface heat, are filled with animals swimming toward the direction of the steadily cooling warm currents. Less mobile swimmers have a conundrum, however: Either they dive deeper, to be pushed toward the equator by the cold deep-water currents, or they wait near the warmer surface, hoping for heat to return. 

The newfound problem has reached catastrophic proportions. The packed snow and ice expand to ice age levels, burying swaths of shattered ecosystems. Even away from the ice, the other biomes are dying, from taigas almost devoid of life to broadleaf forests standing in leafless solitude to prairies filled with dead grass: all fleeing toward the equator while the inhabitants of their old lands freeze. The tropical biomes, already sitting in the warmest areas on the planet, have nowhere to run, and thus die. The once bountiful tropical forests, savannas, and hot deserts pass away in cold decay, becoming rotting graveyards of what once was.

The oceans still bring precious warmth and stability to the land, and near the coasts many biomes find an inkling of what life was like before. However, it is not to last, as the oceans are struggling, too.

As the seas cool, mobile creatures find their way ever nearer to the equator, fleeing the collapsing ecosystems. Kelp forests die back immensely, while coral reefs are plummeting toward extinction. The sea levels are quickly falling, beaching tidal animals if they don't head to deeper water quickly.

Few hibernating animals and plants have lived to this point, and fewer still will live on. 

Here are seen four scenes of a freezing planet. In the first frame, what was once a varied taiga in what we would call northern Russia is now a field of compressed snow. Occasionally, the signs of what used to live here can be found, such as these remains of a larch tree.

In the second frame, on the coast of the Mediterranean, the long-awaited return of spring has been interrupted by the return of winter. Only the most cold-adapted plants remain here, but even these are quickly succumbing.

In the third frame, just south of Newfoundland, the remains of a kelp forest sway in a weak current. Unlike in most places, the coldness is only a mild threat to the kelp; their main killer is a reduced amount of sunlight. Kelp requires a certain amount of insolation in order to live, and deprived of that light, they die. Though the lower layers have become a field of rot and decay, some foliage in the upper layers stave off their demise. Still, virtually no denizens of this forest have stuck around long enough to see it in this state.

In the fourth frame, tropical biomes have been reduced to graveyards, as exemplified by this tropical rainforest in New Guinea. Sustained cool temperatures and reduced rainfall have killed off all plant life here save for a few stragglers, while the organisms that depended on them have dropped like flies. Some fungi thrive in this dead land, however, living on the masses of dead vegetation and animal corpses on the forest floor, or on the many woody pillars that were once trees. 

The ice marches on still, claiming swaths of land unprecedented in millions of years. In some areas, the ice reaches where subtropical biomes were before. Sea ice follows in close pursuit, freezing up estuaries and bays that once never knew frost. In response, the ocean levels plummet, replacing shallow waters with new land. As New Zealand whitens with ice, New Guinea and Australia merge together; as South Africa grows glaciers, Madagascar gains new island neighbors; as the Caspian Sea freezes over, the Mediterranean loses its connection with the Atlantic. 

The ice progresses.

Virtually nothing dependent on warm conditions has survived. The equatorial regions are the stronghold of the vast majority of the survivors, braving the winters and taking full advantage of the summers. Some organisms eke out a living in what were once comfortable temperate regions, but which are now tundra-like. Still, even these life-bearing areas are but shadows of what they once were, 300 long years ago.