 |
"What do you
think motivates this,
Robin? After all, you are part of a green world, which is in a
rich continuous cycle of decay and renewal. Yet you here
seem to want
to break free of the cycle."
|
|
Robin sits back in her chair
chuckling. "I know. I know. Foresty nature-types are
supposed to be all about the circles of life, cycles of whatever, etc.
etc. But you know, Lucas? I'm not. I'm more of the
'nature red in tooth and claw' type." She grins with a lot of
feral teeth. Then calms down. "I just... don't see cycles, Lucas. I see lines, arcs. Things are born, they live, they die. And then they're gone. End of story, that's all she wrote. Period. When an autumn dies into winter, it's gone. We may honor it in our flawed memories. And there may be another autumn next year. But it won't be the same. It'll be a different fall, with a different personality and different times. And it's own life to live." "The sapling is not the fallen oak. The next spring's fry is not the salmon who pinked in the shallows. And the cub is not the wolf whose skin hangs in the lodge. Each and every one is their own person, their own unique thing. Thus, I don't see things as 'renewed' but as *new.*" A light of enthusiasm burns in Robin's green eyes. "Now those lines, those lives... they can make an image when seen from the right perspective. Like scrimshaw. So I *do* think that one can see a pattern in the Green if one looks correctly." She grins. "But I don't think it's a cycle." "Therefore when I jump, when I live my life, my *time*, I know it's the only one I will ever have. And I try to make the most of it. In the joy of free-fall through my own glorious arc. And as part of the grand design." |
|
| Lucas inclines his head gracefully. "An exquisite answer. Thank you." | |
