The last flower is gone, but somewhere its seed remains, and when the seed is gone, its flower will remain. I suppose nothing is whole unto itself. We are all just vehicles, and life moves through us.
Eulogy? said Bonny. Yes, I could say something… “Here lies a tree. It was a good tree. A tree that made use of what was offered, and offered what made use. It grew without haste, and it grew without malice. And when it fell, it made a sound.”
I’m worried about Ditto, said Bonny. Why? said Pablo. Because, said Bonny, he’s spending too much time with that tree.
Go fish, said Ditto.
Why is that tree different? said Bonny. Because it’s dying. Why is it dying? Because it’s old. Its roots can’t nourish it, and its leaves don’t absorb the sun. Save it? No, we can’t save it. It’s going to die, and then it will fall, and rot, and become food for the forest. You and me? Yes, one day.
Hey… footsteps in the snow. I wonder where they’re going? Maybe I’ll follow them. Doo dee doo dee dee, dee dee dee dee doo… hey, what’s this? No more footsteps. I wonder what happened to the person who was making them? How can a person just vanish like that, and make no more tracks? Hmmm, maybe I’d better go see Harlan, and make sure he’s alright.