Antediluvian Facts and Assumptions
It did not rain on the earth until the flood. All the earth was watered by a mist that rose from the ground in the evening and at night.
Population at the time of Noah’s flood was 9,000,000,000 according to Lambert Dolphin World Population Since Creation and Catastrophe Chronology. (www.ldolphin.org/barrychron.html)
Eating meat was not sanctioned by God. Everyone was supposed to eat vegetarian.
All cultures began suddenly and were fully developed.
Cities were built with enormous stone blocks weighing at least 200 tons which no modern crane can move and were constructed to a tolerance of 1/50th of an inch.
The city of Ur was a sprawling metropolis on the Euphrates River and had from 65,000 to 200,000 residents. It was the center for trade of pottery from Eridu, grain from Shuruppak, along with other goods: spices, oils, bitumen, wool, slaves and food stuffs.
According to the Bible, the earth is 6,000 to 7,000 years old.
People lived for hundreds of years.
Night view of the antediluvian city of Ur.
There is always a still, quiet space before tragedy, when the future is known to the spirit and the soul quakes with the coming.
The leaves outside Atarah’s window rustled in the night, fluttering in a whispering wind. Shapes moved across the ceiling making her shiver with an unexpected chill. They must be shadows from the olive tree. Must be, for no animal or man could reach the outer sill of her open window. After a moment, the wind grew silent and the leaves languid. Sleep came once more.
In the gray of dawn, with the covers twisted around her body, she fought her way out of bed and stood on trembling legs trying to remember the dream, but the memory would not come. All that remained was the scent of evil. She smoothed the drape of black hair, raking her brush through it as if the motion would dissolve any uncertainty and fear. Was it the marriage, which her father insisted upon, that brought such tremors? Was it that Naaman was unhappy about returning to his parent’s home to wed a stranger? If negotiations went well, the union would net her father, Emil, half his brother Arad’s wealth. In all of Atarah’s seventeen years Naaman had been away tending his father’s flocks. It did not matter that she didn’t know him. He was a good son, her father claimed, and would be a good husband.
With her hair twisted into a bun she felt around in the early morning dark for her applewood combs, but only an oil lamp occupied the bedside table. I know I put them there. The combs hit the floor when she flipped the covers off the bed. After retrieving them, she secured her hair and put on a blue dress, cinching it at the waist with a matching sash.
Cool stone felt good to her bare feet as she walked into the courtyard and past the kitchen to a niche in the outside wall used to store the water jug. Chalky minerals leached down the jug's sides, lightening the red clay to pink. She lifted it to her head, pushed open the front door, and stepped onto the street. Her body and jug swayed as if of one mind, a graceful union of flesh and clay. Tanned feet conformed to the wet cobbles and disturbed the mist that swirled around her legs. It was as if the droplets waited to return to dark aquifers, responding to instructions written on every molecule which called them home at the appropriate time. Low hanging vines on neighboring walls seemed to grow out of the fog, suckled by the rolling damp. Moisture broke against her face and arms like sprays of flower's breath depositing the scent of jasmine.
This hour of the morning she claimed as her own. It belonged to her and the night creatures following the shadows home. Moon flowers twisted closed and birds stretched the sleep out of their wings, signaling the end of night and the start of a new day. Being first at the well had its benefits; the water would be undisturbed and silt free, but in the twilight hour the well would also be deserted.