I had recently made the journey out to the untamed state of Colorado. I must say that time spent there is some of the finest use of the concept. Though the white-tipped mountains create the most splendid of barriers, what with their sharpened tips and broad awe-inspiring stoicism, between nature and man, it is the animals whom peaked my interest. Why, on first night I saw a salmon arguing with a deer on which direction was up. The salmon bobbed in the water, taking frequent dips to catch his breath, as he listened intently to the deer's argument. The deer argued, rightfully I might add, that up is to mean skyward, and that any notion otherwise is simply absurd. The deer struggled to find footing near the river as her lanky sharp joints almost had me convinced she would inevitably fall into the steadily rushing current; as awkward as it looked, she appeared confident in steps and never took the tumble which worried me so. The salmon convincingly argued that he oftentimes swims with his belly facing the surface making up toward the riverbed. His shimmering body then inverted as the salmon ran along the stream, now jumping down out of the water. The two sufficed to simply agree that up was a meaningless word as it was based on sharing a perspective; it is always an abysmal assumption, they concluded, that one's perspective is shared by many. With that they went their separate ways.

    Another such day I happened upon a bald eagle discussing with a bighorn sheep the comfortability of the weather, to which there was little. As the eagle flapped furiously into the wind to no avail he remarked to the bighorn that such weather was not fit for any flying aside from the giant beast that never flapped its wings often seen high in the sky. The sheep's horns curled back around the creature and curved up just to the corner of its mouth, enhancing what seemed to be an unwavering healthy smile. The cheerful beast nodded in agreement with the eagle. He noted the brown flash of the wings was wearing down and offered a horn to the giant bird where it could rest. Though one feathered and one furred, the whiteness of the eagle's head and the bighorn's coat appeared strikingly similar. The bighorn remarked on how he enjoyed the brisk chill of the wind, but added that it did indeed make in more difficult to climb. The difficulty in his climbing, however, was dwarfed significantly next to the difficulty of the eagle's flight.

    Thus was the nature of nature. It seemed animals, regardless of differences, always had something pointless to discuss. Never was an argument heat-filled, and never did they fail to reach an understanding. Why as I sit here on this night and write down these events I hear an inquisitive owl arguing with a chattering squirrel as to which one owns the tree. I almost expected things were to escalate and come to blows, what with the scampering of the squirrel and the flapping of the owl's great wings, but never were these thoughts to come anywhere near fruition. No voices raised as the two agreed that neither did the squirrel nor owl need the whole tree. The owl only asked for a branch to watch for mice at night, and the squirrel only asked for a hole in the tree's side in which it could nest. The squirrel then joked that the owl was too big anyways to fit in the nest, to which the owl laughed and said that if it were he would eat well for the coming days. Apparently the owl had eaten tonight, and had no interest in the squirrel on this day. Both creatures could be heard laughing at what was certainly quite the morbid jest. As I was saying, nature is full of understanding things of little value.

    Now I bring myself to the most queer of events on this intriguing trip. You see, just the other day I found myself further north than intended and happened upon two grizzly bears that had lost their way. Their giant brown bodies were intensified next to the bright white rock they had both chosen to lean against. They nestled their rears into the dirt as they sat with a somewhat regal air. They stared up, for since they are of common specie-hood they must share a common perspective, and enjoyed everything there was to enjoy about being a bear. It was then that I overheard them speaking. Their massive jaws moved authoritatively as they used equally massive paws to further illustrate their points. Mind you, the language of the bear is quite the majestic language, and for me to tell this story now does not do justice to the story I heard. However, I feel it important to relay this story, and in order to do so appropriately I must use the language of man to give meaning to what I heard as most readers do not understand the slight derivations in dialect that make the language of grizzly, grizzly; not to mention most humans are unfamiliar with the language of bear itself.

    The first bear started, I must say that I couldn't eat another bite after devouring those wonderful truffles you happened upon.

    Ah yes, those were quite the treat. When opportunity presents itself, only a foolish cub may pass it by in hopes for something better. The giant bear let out a fulfilling yawn and slowly rubbed its gargantuan back against the rock.

    Indeed the time we have should not be spent looking for the next best thing. It is rather easier and timely to stroll along and reap the benefits of opportunity. Why the other day I just so happened on a pack of pronghorns.

    I believe you mean to say a herd of pronghorns.

    Ah yes, quite right. Well a sickly one in the back was having difficulty keeping up so I seized the opportunity to tackle him and have myself quite an opportunistic meal.

    That sounds a rather fortunate opportunity.

    Indeed it was. I had him pinned you see, and decided to ask him where he was going.

    No doubt to find something better than where they had been; but you really shouldn't talk to your food.

    I know, but I was interested for you see this one had a crooked neck and I wished to know what the cause of such an unfortunate circumstance was. The other bear nodded in approval as he continued his gaze towards the sky. As you have guessed he was looking for a place where the grass was greener and there were no predators.

    I also assume that it was such a place that he had been only weeks before. Those silly pronghorn always think the grass is greener elsewhere, but they find they never go anyplace else.

    Quite right. I must tell you though this one had the most intriguing story on how he was hit by one of those stumpy four appendaged rolling beasts.

    Ah, that would explain the neck.

    indeed, however he talked about a beast I'd only heard of up to that point. Those bi-pedaled things that killed my father and your brother.

    Ah yes, those.

    Well he walked down where he called Pearl Street in where he called Boulder in where he called Colorado.

    Really what an awkward fellow this seems.

    Quite so. He had apparently spent some time with the bi-pedaled organisms. This sickly prong kept going on and on about how civilized' these strange beings were.

    Civilized what could he possibly mean?

    That's just it. I had not the slightest clue. So I asked him about civilized' and he told me that they were all proper' like.

    Proper what did he mean by proper?

    I haven't the slightest clue. So the prong kept going on and on about how great everything was there, and how everyone was really interested in him. The prong said it was a bit frightening, but then conceded to say that he was a bit uncertain about the ways of civilized things.

    How extraordinarily odd.

    So the prong then told me he was in quite some pain and would appreciate it if I would just kill him already and be done with it. So of course I did, but I couldn't shake off what he had just told me.

    You didn't actually go

    I did, and let me tell you they did not react the way I thought they would. Instead of being all interested everyone just ran away.

    Interesting. So what did you come to learn about this civilized?'

    That's just the thing I didn't get it.

    Really, well did you learn anything?

    Sure, with his grand paw the bear reached up to his mouth and gingerly used a razor sharp claw to pick out what looked like a torn piece of cloth, they run quite a bit slower than the prongs; even the sickly ones.

    It was about this time I decided it best to take my leave. Silly how bears fail to realize the civility that separates us from nature. However, much cannot be expected from things uncivilized.