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In Jewish and Christian doctrines alike, religious figure and biblical patriarch Methuselah is primarily known for one thing: living to, and dying at, the age of 969. Invoked as a patron of longevity for centuries, his name has notably been bestowed upon a number of especially long living creatures and phenomena the world over by a scientific body ever-fascinated by their endurance. Methuselah is a star and a planet. Methuselah is a cellular automaton and an insect protein. Methuselah is a lungfish. Methuselah is a man, and Methuselah is a tree.

Rooted in the White Mountains of Inyo, California, Methuselah is a Great Basin Bristlecone pine currently determined to be the world’s oldest living, non-clonal tree by the Rocky Mountain Tree-Ring Research group. Estimated at approximately 4850 years old through crossdating, Methuselah’s impressive age is attributed to the simultaneously harsh and preservative climate of the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Though some argument surrounds whether Methuselah is really the oldest living tree in existence, it is currently the most reliably dated of the world’s oldest non-clonal trees.

Trees of Methuselah’s advanced age are rare, and becoming ever rarer. Methuselah’s location was protected from the public for decades until its accidental leak in 2021, for fear that the irreplaceable tree would be damaged or outright killed. But, while the tree can still be protected from individuals, it and many like it cannot be protected from climate change. In January of 2025, another major wildfire ravaged California - before it, the 2020 California wildfires killed a whopping 10% of the world’s redwood population. Across the globe, natural disasters influenced by changing climates upset the balance and stability of organisms that are millenia older than the technologies responsible. 

According to the Sefer haYashar, Methuselah, his name meaning “His Death Shall Send,” was once the final man to walk in the way of the Lord. Upon his death, satisfied that he would be killing no righteous men, the Lord sent the Flood to wash the world away. What happens to us when our Methuselahs die? Will we, like our oldest trees, be washed away by climate change? Do we have the time left to redeem ourselves - and be saved alongside them?

“Their Death Shall Send,” named for Methuselah in all his forms, is a showcase of and tribute to the world’s oldest flora and megaflora, both those which have survived until now and those which have perished. As the gnarled hands of climate change come ever closer to dragging them under, it is my hope that introducing you to some of the Earth’s most irreplaceable organisms  - some of which you are barred from ever seeing in person, for their safety - will challenge you to think about what a world without them would look like.