Five Trophic Levels

It is the middle of the summer in the hot Sonoran desert. The plants are standing still as in the army, the crickets are chirping their anthem, the mice stand still and watch ready to strike, while the snakes and the hawks both wait for their prey. It seems like the same old day when the sheriff has everything under control, and no one has broken the rules. No one expects the great terror that is about to happen.

Down comes the sun, and the middle of the night has come to show itself. Like a great thief, a big gang of hawks has immigrated to the Sonoran desert for a feast. They wait for the perfect moment to start celebrating. By now it is the middle of the day, when the sun can’t be hotter. Snakes are all over the ground, and the hawks are hungry for food. They strike their attack and work as a team to enjoy the wonderful taste of snake. By the end of the day, almost half of the snakes have been wiped out, leaving a strong and numerous pack of mice still standing. In the night, the mice engage towards their trophy… CRICKETS! One by one they kill feasting on their flavor, but suddenly their feast is interrupted by the even stronger flying hawks. Both the mice and the hawks charge on a long fight, ending as the sun comes up. To the disgrace of the mice, the hawks are the winners by wiping out almost every single mouse.

What do we have left? Endangered mice, crickets, and snakes, dying hawks for lack of food, and strong, long plants saluting their flag.