The cycle of life

I’m a young and small herd member. In the group we
learn acceptable behavior and have no hard choices
about when to move or which direction. We eat, drink
and do what we are told. The others chase us back if
we stray.

Getting bigger now but still a kid. Thoughts keep coming
to mind. I wonder what the north is like in winter? How
would this grass taste with a little hot sauce? Is this herd
the only herd? A few steps away from the group is fun.
The others yap but don’t do anything.

The older ones lecture me. Going north in winter when
the others go south? Nuts. Facing lions and tigers and
bears all by myself? No chance. Why risk starving when
there is grass right here? The herd knows what they
are doing.

I’m as big as anybody now and have wandered when I
felt like it with no ill effect. The dangers are exaggerated.
I can go my own way and take care of myself.

Years have passed since I left the group. I have a few
scars and bite marks and have seen others perish who
weren’t as lucky. A few of us have gathered together
and look out for each other now. We try to guide the
young ones but some of them don’t listen and go off on
their own.

It’s getting colder and the grass is thinning out. It’s time
to start heading south. I wonder what life would be like
if I had stayed home years ago? I guess I’d be wondering
what it would be like if I had left. Do we ever stop
wondering?

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Ken