Environmental damage is now accepted by most researchers as a prime cause of Tikal's collapse. At the height of its success, Tikal's rapidly increasing population used up the living world surrounding it—exhausting the soil and water, stripping the trees from the hills. The outcome was drought, famine, civil war, and before long, the great Mayan civilization collapsed. Over the course of hundreds of years, we see the forest reclaim the city. Now, only the tallest temples remain, rising above the rolling green of the tropical canopy.

In the darkness of the underbrush, a pair of large glowing eyes appears. The jaguar surveys its domain, then turns in slow motion to stare at us. Tikal's message is simple: we need to rediscover our place within the web of nature and find the wisdom to protect the living systems that protect us.



The skyscrapers of New York rise into a clear blue sky. We recognize one of the high-rise apartment buildings. Inside, the father shuts off the faucet and takes a sip of water. The camera pans across misty ridges, clothed in forests, brilliant with fall colors. A hundred years ago, the legislators of New York protected these watersheds in perpetuity—2,000 square miles where natural systems can operate relatively undisturbed. The foresight of the people of this state now means that New York City can provide pure drinking water to its residents.

We dissolve back to the majesty of the underwater kelp forests. Thirty years ago, conservation groups reestablished the balance of life here simply by introducing legislation to protect the sea otter.

And today, Rapid Assessment Programs are collecting the information we need to protect and preserve unique wild places, like the Lost World of Venezuela. We see Margarita Lampo and her colleagues surveying another mountaintop at the end of their expedition. They search the deep red waters of a mountain stream, fringed with emerald vegetation. It's like walking through Shangri-la, an untouched garden in the sky. Margarita records her thoughts in her journal: "We'll be on our way home today, but in a real sense, this is our home. The air is fresh, and the waters flow endlessly. These places give us life and remind us that we're just a small part of nature. Will it stay this way? I like to think that my children will have the chance to see places like this, exactly as we see it today. Maybe our work will help us understand the world we have. And the world we have to lose..."

Flying out through the ranked tepuis, the helicopter heads for home. As it flies by Angel Falls, the sparkling sheet of water, with its unmatched power and beauty, tumbles from the tepui into the valley 3,000 feet below, dwarfing the helicopter.