Learning: A Parable

By Hector West

Part I: Squirrel

Upon reflection, Squirrel really did have too many nuts. Squirrel’s main cache alone had enough nuts to feed a small village of squirrels for an entire year. And his main cache was one of many. Squirrel worked very hard to amass this fortune, and at first he was pleased with himself because he had been working on this wealth his entire life. Squirrel had spent every waking moment of his childhood dreaming of the fastest, easiest, surest way to find and store nuts. And now, a few years into his adulthood, he found that he had accomplished his goals. He had the most nuts out of everyone, and everyone knew it.

Since he had so many nuts, he didn’t have to work any more. So he slept in, and lounged around, played some games and walked about. He recounted his nuts, and visited his caches, but there was really nothing to do. For weeks, he wandered through his days without direction. And then a thought popped into his head that had never popped there before. “Maybe I’m missing something,” he thought to himself. And he furrowed his brows, and paced in his house, and thought long and hard about this new idea. “What could I be missing?” he asked. “What could I possibly need that I don’t already have? Maybe I really do have too many nuts.”

This thought scared him a little. He didn’t know who to ask for help, because all the other squirrels were trying to do what he had already done. But Rabbit might know! When they were younger, Rabbit always seemed to be concerned with the details of life, and if there was anyone out there who would be able to point out any details that Squirrel had missed, surely Rabbit could. So Squirrel packed up an overnight bag, and hit the road to look for his old friend Rabbit.

Part II: Rabbit

Outside the forest, a meadow folds itself open on both sides of the creek. It is not an enormous meadow. It is not gigantic, nor is it humongous. It is simply a quaint little meadow with flowers bursting and grasses swishing and water gurgling. The meadow is playful and bright, friendly and warm. And when Squirrel entered the meadow, he thought to himself that he didn’t have the right words to describe what he felt or what he saw. This was so different from his forest – from the trees and the needles and the cones – from the ferns and the mushrooms and the shade. Squirrel walked around with wide eyes and tight breath. A little shyly, he finally asked a mole if he had seen Rabbit. The mole smiled and pointed in the direction of the thistle patch in the middle-most point in the meadow. Squirrel smiled back, and walked leisurely through the meadow, pulling into his mind and soul all the new sights and sounds and smells and tastes that he could. When he arrived at the thistle patch, he found that he was excited to see his old friend, and called out to her with a smile.

But the smile quickly melted when Squirrel saw Rabbit. Something was very wrong. Rabbit’s ears were down, and so was her mood. Her drooping shoulders said more than her voice when she greeted Squirrel and invited him in to visit. They chatted about the old days, about school and about their friends. They talked about Beaver and Coyote and Wolf, about their teachers and their classes. They talked about the past. But the past stops at the present, and presently the conversation stopped. Squirrel was worried about his friend, so he asked:

“What’s the matter, Rabbit? You always seemed to have it all figured out. There was no one at school better at remembering Life’s little details. You gobbled them up like carrot sticks, you did! So why are you so down? This meadow is incredible, full of details that make my heart spin around! One would think you’d be in heaven here.”

“You’re right,” Rabbit said. “I was good at remembering the details. I chased them around, and wrote them down. I memorized them and categorized them and organized them. I knew more details than anyone at school. And I thought those details would amount to something. The more details I knew, the better I would understand the world.”

“So what happened?” asked Squirrel.

“I got lost,” said Rabbit, casting her eyes to the ground in shame.

“You’re being silly, Rabbit. You’re not lost. You live in the thistle patch at the middle-most point in the meadow. The forest is over there, the river over here. And beyond is the Great Unknown. How can you be lost?”

“I got lost because I can’t see past the details. I don’t know where I’m going anymore. When I was young, I thought the details were all that mattered, and so at school I only paid attention to the little facts and figures, to the answers at the end, not the problem at the start. Now, the details don’t matter, and the details are all that I know.”

Squirrel frowned. This was not what he was expecting at all. When he was in school, he wanted to know how to find and gather nuts, and that was about all. He only paid attention to what he thought would help him with his goal, which is to say that he paid attention only a little, for school is varied and complex and oh so very long. Now something was missing, and he was sure it was some detail that he overlooked. But his friend Rabbit was saying that details don’t matter – Rabbit, who was better at remembering details than anyone in the world!

After a moment, Squirrel flicked his tail in a decisive gesture. “I don’t know what to say, Rabbit, but I think I know what to do. I’m going to find Beaver. He always knew what he was going to do and how he was going to do it. He had a plan, and from what I gather, he stuck to it. He’ll be able to help both of us – that is, if you want to come with me?”

Rabbit’s ears perked up for the first time in few dozen sunsets. “Can I come, really?” she asked. “I’d love to! Just let me grab a few things and we’ll be on our way.” It took but a moment before they set out for the river.

Part III: Beaver

To fell the trees wherever you please and link the logs across; to whittle and gnaw and stop a force that Time itself commands: This is the work of the Beaver, and to the Beaver the work is good. Squirrel and Rabbit were familiar with the song. They remembered their friend singing it to himself over and over again, and humming it while he built his wooden gadgets. He was always a hard-working student, Beaver was, always focused on what he would be building when he was older. He knew, or at least he thought he knew, exactly what he would be doing when he grew up, and why he would be doing it.

Squirrel and Rabbit followed the creek that creased the meadow to where it joined the river. From there, it was not difficult to know where to go next. They could hear the activity of the beavers – cracking, splintering, crashing, splashing. They followed the noise upriver to where they found the colony of beavers in frantic production. The dam was broken, and the river was rushing through, threatening to take out the entire structure. It looked dangerous, and everyone looked worried.

Fearing that they would be in the way, the two friends stood back and watched the activity. They marveled at the skill of the beavers, and at the way they communicated with each other without seeming to communicate. Each knew his place and his job; each contributed to the master plan. Rabbit, especially, was amazed, for she began to see how each beaver needed to know both the details and the larger job in order to contribute. This was new for her, and exciting. Rabbit started to think about her own details, and to wonder at the possibilities.

Squirrel, for his part, noticed something else entirely. He noticed how the group was intently focused on one thing: repairing the dam. He recognized his own determination reflected in theirs, but he also noticed a difference. The beavers were working together for a goal that helped the whole colony. He worked alone to reach a goal that helped only himself.

After a few hours, the beavers seemed to get the flooding under control, and Rabbit and Squirrel went looking for their friend. They found him, wet and tired, under a large oak tree on the bank of the river. After a couple awkward moments, the three settled back into their friendship and the conversation bubbled along like it used to do when they were younger. Eventually, Beaver asked what the other two were doing traveling to the beaver pond, so far away from the meadow and the forest.

“We thought we’d come find you, actually,” said Squirrel.

“Me?”

Squirrel explained that he thought he’d reached his goals but that he felt something was missing. He thought it might be in the details and that Rabbit might be able to help with those. Rabbit took up the tale and explained how she was lost in the details, and that she needed help seeing something bigger.

“So we thought we’d find you, Beaver, because you always seemed to know what you were after, what you’d do, and why,” Rabbit finished.

"Well, it is true that after school I had a plan, and I followed that plan. I knew that I would come home and work on the dam, and that my family would work on the dam, and that's how it would be because that's the way it always was."

“Right!” exclaimed Squirrel. “That’s what we want to know about! What’s the secret? How did you know and how can we find the same thing that you have?”

“Wait, Squirrel. I’m not quite finished. I have been here since we left school and have been building and repairing our dam every day. At this time of the year, every year, the dam washes out and we double the work in order to fix it before everything is lost. At first it was exciting, but after a while, I started to realize that I had no idea why the dam was washing out. I now realize that this work will continue, and we will continue living as we are - as we have been forever - unless someone figures out a better way to build a dam. We all went to school to build this dam, to repair this dam, to work on this dam."

Beaver's voice hit a sorrowful note, and wavered just a bit, like a ripple in a still pond. He looked at his friends, and his look was sad. "But I want to know how to make it better. I want to know about the river itself, and about the water in the river, and about the force in the water. I want to know how, not just what, and I missed my chance at school."

Rabbit and Squirrel listened to their friend. It seemed that they were all missing something. Each friend had learned at school what they thought they would need to learn, but only that which they thought they would need. It turned out, there was more.

Squirrel perked up, suddenly, the way squirrels often do. With a characteristic flick of his bushy tail, he spoke to his friends: "Once again, I don't really know what to say, but I think I know what to do. We'll go see Coyote! She was always having fun and taking it easy. Maybe she'll have some idea about what we're all missing!"

Beaver looked around the pond, at the dam, at his family, at his work. Then he looked at his friends. "Let's go. It's about time I tried something different."

Rabbit, too, looked around. She saw the magnificent details of the dam. She also began to see that a view of the whole project helped to bring the details to life in the hustle and bustle of teamwork. She smiled. "Yes, let's go. I think we will all benefit from trying something different."

Part IV: Coyote

The journey from the riverside pond through the meadow and into the gently rolling prairie took but a day. Throughout the day, though, Squirrel marveled at the horizon, and wondered quietly to himself how anyone could possibly forget the painted sky that kissed the painted ground. His treetops afforded him quite a view, but it was a view of more treetops. This view pressed on his heart. He missed his trees, to be sure, but the prairie vista settled into his memory as a treasure more valuable than all the nuts in all the forests.

Rabbit, for her part, kept a mental catalogue of the plants and berries and bugs and shrubs that the journey placed in their path. Additionally, she started to see how the plants created the berries, and how the berries fed the bugs. She saw how the shrubs made the shade and how the shade made it cool. The details were important, as they always had been, but they were important only in how they related to all the other details. This relationship awakened the curiosity that had been all but lost over the past few years.

And Beaver? Beaver was able to think about anything he wanted to think about. He had no dam to build. He had no tree to fell. He had no work to do. He had only to travel and to think, and to be with his friends. He smiled, and he hummed his song. The song, though, took on a new meaning. To fell the trees wherever you please and link the logs across; to whittle and gnaw and stop a force that Time itself commands: This is the work of the Beaver, and to the Beaver the work is good. He now began to realize that the work is good only when he had time to consider the work, to appreciate the work, to enjoy the work. Work without reflection is simply work.

As the trio entered the prairie, they realized that the expanse of the land would make it hard to find their friend. They decided to find some water, sit down for a drink and a rest, and come up with a plan. None of them saw the eyes peeking through the grass. None of them heard the soft swish of a tail wagging in the wind. None of them saw their friend Coyote until Coyote wanted them to.

She waited until they had sat on the bank of a small creek and had become as comfortable as they could be in a strange prairie with strange sights and strange sounds and strange smells. She waited, unseen and unheard, until the perfect moment.

"I wonder how we'll find her," said Beaver aloud. "This is such a big place, and she could be anywhere. In fact, we don't even know if she still lives here."

"I'm here," whispered Coyote from nowhere in particular.

"Did you hear that?" asked Rabbit, a tinge of fear in her voice.

"I'm here," whispered Coyote again, from somewhere else, which was still nowhere in particular.

"I heard it that time," said Squirrel. "It sounded like..."

"ME!" shouted Coyote as she sprang from the tall grass by the bank of the creek. She landed with a delicate thud in the middle of the traveling trio, and startled them all. Rabbit began to tremble, and didn't stop for many minutes.

Coyote giggled her mischievous giggle. "Gotcha!" she said.

"Yes, you got us," said Squirrel. His voice was thin, and faintly shook.

"What are you doing here?" asked Coyote looking from friend to friend. She noticed that her trick had really scared Rabbit, and that Squirrel looked at her with some degree of mistrust. Beaver's countenance reflected more annoyance than anything, but the kind of annoyance that leads to anger. She felt bad. "Sorry about that - I was just trying to have a little fun."

Squirrel was the first to speak again, after a long moment of stinging silence. "You haven't changed a bit, have you Coyote?" Another pause, and then: "That's okay, because really that's why we came looking for you."

"You came looking for me?"

"Y-yes," stammered Rabbit. "B-b-but we w-weren't expecting that kind of a g-g-greeting."

Coyote looked at her paws, and scratched the dirt a bit, feeling even more ashamed.

Beaver spoke up: "Coyote, we were looking for you because we all have some problems that you might be able to help us with." He launched into his story, about working on the dam with his family and losing touch with the satisfaction the work brings. Rabbit stuttered through her story about losing sight of the relationship among the details of her life.

Squirrel concluded the tale with his lingering sense that all his nut gathering lacked some greater purpose. "So what's your secret, Coyote?," he asked. "You always seemed to be the one having the fun, never working too hard, always playing tricks and joking around. You had it all figured out, you did.”

Coyote at first beamed with what appeared to be a compliment. She was about to start bragging about how little she cared about school and how much she tricked her way through the exams and the tests and the learning. But whenever she remembered all the cheating, all the times she just scraped by, all the work that she had others do for her so that she could have so much fun, she knew in her heart that it was wrong. She had known for some time that she missed a great opportunity when she was younger. Now she knew that all the tricks in the world couldn't get her back the time that was lost.

"I had fun when I was younger," Coyote began. "Yes, I had lots of fun. Most of the fun that I had was at the expense of others, though. Like just now - I had fun playing that joke on you, but I didn't realize the effect that it would have. When I was younger, I cheated and tricked and played and laughed, but I never really learned. Or at least, I never learned how to learn. So now I find myself playing the same old tricks on the same old people, and the number of friends that I have is dwindling. I have all this space to roam, all this beauty to appreciate, but I can't seem to have as much fun as I used to have. I'm sorry. It looks like I'm not really much help."

Squirrel stared at the ground, feeling discouraged. He knew he was missing something, and he thought his friends would be able to help. It turned out that his friends, too, were missing something. Now, here he was in the middle of a strange prairie, far from his forest and his nuts, and farther still from figuring out what was missing. As he contemplated returning home to the forest, he felt Rabbit put her arm around him.

"Don't worry, Squirrel," she said softly. "Without you, I wouldn't have left the meadow. I wouldn't have seen the majesty of teamwork, or the complex connections of life. I'm glad you came by. At the very least, we rekindled our friendship, and for that I am grateful."

Beaver slapped Squirrel across the back with his tail. "She's right, Squirrel. You two came by just when I was getting the most discouraged. But now I see that I have to reflect on the work that I do, and be proud. I'm sorry you haven't found what you're looking for, but you certainly helped me find something."

Squirrel looked at his friends and thanked them. He was also glad that they had reunited. Friends, the good ones at least, always seem to be there when you need them.

Coyote had been quiet after she related her tale. She now spoke softly to the group. "You three always were good friends, and I'm sorry I abused that friendship some when we were younger. If it weren't for you three coming here, I would have continued feeling bad about my tricks and my jokes and would have eventually become a sad, sad coyote. You all reminded me that there is a reason we have fun, but that reason goes away when we have fun at the expense of others. Thank you, Squirrel, and thank you Rabbit and Beaver."

Squirrel appreciated the words that his friends spoke, but he still felt bad that he hadn't figured out what was missing. Perhaps what was missing was found in each of his friends' tales. Perhaps it was just a big jigsaw puzzle and he was slowly gathering the pieces.

He was about to suggest that they all return to their homes with the expectation that they keep in touch, when a sound, faintly audible on the fingertips of the wind, floated out of the mountains. It began low, and crescendoed to a pitch that seemed to echo among the very stars that were yet invisible in the sky. As softly as it began, it drifted on, and soaked into the ground. When it began again, other voices joined, and the full symphony of wolves could be heard.  

The four friends all stiffened against the sound. The notes twisted in and out of harmony as they rose and fell on the breezes of the prairie. When the song drifted finally away, the friends looked at each other with mixed wonder and fear. Coyote was the first to speak.

"It's been a while since I heard that," she said softly. "Apparently the pack has returned from the Great Beyond."

"Do you know them well, Coyote?" Squirrel asked.

"I do," she replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "And you do, too. At least, you know one of them. Come on! Let's go say 'Hello.'"

The other three friends stared in disbelief. When they realized that Coyote wasn't joking, they reluctantly followed her towards the blue tinted slopes of the mountains.

Part V: Wolf

From the creek, the blue tinted slopes of the mountains seemed just an arm's reach away, but after a few hours of walking, the friends realized the distance was greater than they had thought. They stopped for a drink at a small pond that was more like an oversized puddle. Squirrel was nervous. He had never been this far from his forest, and had never been this far from his nuts. He was weary of approaching a wolf pack, regardless of how many friends might be with him, or how many friends he might meet. To shake off this uncomfortable feeling, Squirrel tried to concentrate on his friend, Wolf.

In school, Wolf was always a little different. He was incredibly athletic, and in most physical activities he excelled. He could run from horizon to horizon with no more than a pant and a lolling tongue to show for the effort. He could jump quite high, and crawl quite low, swim quite far and creep quite slow. Other students at school were also athletic, and they honed their athleticism constantly, often at the sake of their other courses. But not Wolf. He would exercise, and then he would study. Then he would study some more before exercising again.

During classes, Wolf was usually quiet. He did not ask too many questions, but the ones he asked were helpful to the entire class. His concentration was as legendary as his patience. He seemed to be fully engaged in whatever activity he pursued, and he gained skills not usual for others like him. In fact, his other friends teased him about how studious he was, saying that he was wasting his time with nonsense.

One would think that the situation at school would lead him to being either cynical or mean, but not Wolf. He befriended Beaver in a woodworking class, having admitted he knew nothing of wood or the work that is done with it, except of course how to chew on a stick. He had such a genuine appreciation for Beaver's skills in constructing a house, and had such a determined approach to learning Beaver's talents, that Beaver couldn't help but like him back. In another class, Wolf made fast friends with Rabbit, who was able to share with him the secrets of overlooked details. He constantly asked her questions about the littlest ideas, and marveled at her ability to find the overlooked facts. When it came to storage and gathering, Wolf stayed close to Squirrel, and learned all he could about focusing on one thing and pursuing it until the goal is reached. Wolf was not as concerned with the methods, but focused rather on the philosophy of storage and the history of forage.

So Wolf had the physical abilities, the concentration, and the innate curiosity that made for the soundest of students. He also had a fun side, and he and Coyote often teamed up and played the best tricks on the students and on the teachers. In fact, Wolf was the only one who could out-trick the trickster herself. His humor was dry, crisp, and sharp, but he smoothed it with a wolfish grin and a kind heart.

Wolf wasn't a boisterous personality. He didn't stand out in a crowd, and really did not like being recognized. It was true, though, that every student and every teacher with whom he had contact felt a deep connection and was able to open up and be genuine.

Such were the memories of Squirrel on his journey with his three friends to the blue tinted mountains. They had approached slowly and steadily, and had now reached the first real incline that led to the upper reaches of the peaks. All were tired, and so they sat and rested and drank from a mountain stream. After resting for a short while, the four readied themselves for the climb that Coyote described as "challenging." But the climb was not needed.

A bark in the distance signaled the presence of the wolf pack. Coyote stiffened and the hackles on her neck stood up. Rabbit crouched under a bush. Beaver stood his ground. Squirrel flicked his tail nervously. The four friends waited for the wolves to show themselves and to dictate the next move.

From the timbers ahead, a shape formed itself from the particles of the air. Then another shape materialized from the leaves of a shrub. In a matter of seconds, no fewer than eight wolves appeared from the elements and slowly approached the four friends. The light of the day had dwindled, and the dusky illumination of a recently departed sun, a newly rising moon, and a tangibly tense situation cast shadows over all.

"Why do you approach these peaks?" a voice growled.

Squirrel spoke first: "Please pardon our intrusion, as we mean no harm or threat. We are seeking a friend of ours, and were told he might be here."

Coyote followed with an explanation of her own. "I am Coyote from the prairie below. I heard the Call of the Howl that signalled your return to the blue tinted mountains. We four have travelled to speak with our old friend."

"Coyote! It is you!" a familiar voice barked from the middle of the pack. "And Squirrel and Rabbit and Beaver, too! Welcome to our home." With that, three wolves moved aside to reveal the impressive form of their friend Wolf. He had grown considerably since they last had seen each other, and his grizzled fur framed the powerful body that now stood taller than Coyote. He smiled, and his piercing yellow eyes shone with a surprised friendship. "What brings you to this part of the world?" he asked. "You are all very far from home."

The majority of fear had subsided with this friendly address, and so Squirrel's mind returned to the purpose of the visit. He quickly recounted his story and what led him to Rabbit, and then her story and what led them to Beaver. Beaver took up the tale and related his story and their journey to find Coyote, who then spoke of the trip to the blue tinted slopes of the mountains.

After the stories, a pause.

Then, Wolf flashed his famous grin. "How brave and determined you all are!" he said with transparent pride in his friends. "Few would have even begun the journey, and far fewer would have continued after meeting with such disappointment. You are all very impressive, and I am honored that you have sought me out as a friend."

"Can you help us?" asked Rabbit in a small, thin voice. She was still a bit unnerved by the wolf pack that remained facing the travelers. They maintained a powerful calmness.

Wolf thought about his answer before speaking. He sat down on his haunches and curled his tail around his legs. A breeze entered from the peaks behind him, and he closed his eyes, pointed his muzzle to the sky, and breathed deeply.

Squirrel looked at Beaver who looked at Rabbit who looked at Coyote. Then, they all looked at Wolf. Their friend seemed to be drawing his answer from the very wind, and the image of him silhouetted against the deepening dark in the light of the rising moon impressed them all very much. They waited for a reply.

When the breeze subsided, Wolf steadied his gaze on his friends. Then he smiled. "Friends," he began, "I will not be able to tell you what you should do. But I will tell you how I live and what life means to me. I don't know what caused me to be the way I was when I was a pup. We are all born the way we are, and we have very little to do with that. My younger years were luckily spent around my pack, who loved me and cared for me and taught me some of the ideas that were not taught in school. But they also taught me that they did not have all the answers, and, more importantly, that they did not have all the questions.

"So when I was in school, I tried to find both the answers and the questions, and what I found was that, more often than not, the questions were harder to find. So I asked, and I learned, and I grew. I knew that when I left school, I would return to my pack, but beyond that I had not an inkling about what was next. My mind was open to the possibilities, and I soon found those possibilities were endless.

"Adventure, friends. That's what I found. Adventure, but not in the traditional sense of the term. Of course we roamed the hills, and of course we encountered dangers and overcame them. We traveled all around these blue tinted slopes, up to the very peaks, and down to the prairies. We've even been so far as the Great Beyond and let me tell you, it is..." He searched for the right word. "The Great Beyond inspires."

Squirrel was giddy at this. He felt that he was finally going to know what had been missing, and he predicted it had something to do with adventure, perhaps danger, and even the Great Beyond. He felt the same excitement in his friends as they listened to Wolf. We're finally getting somewhere, he thought.

Wolf saw the reaction he was causing and flashed his grin. "This next part may shock you," he said with an obvious wryness in his voice. "All of those adventures by themselves did not teach me anything worth knowing. My life is not about traveling to distant places; it is not about finding dangers and overcoming them. My life is not about visiting places that seem so mystical and exotic. These are things that I do because it is who I am. But that is not what my life is about. The adventure lies in something else."

Beaver spoke the rest of the friends' confusion: "I don't think I follow you, Wolf. You just said that you do those things because it is who you are, but then you said that those things are not what your life is about? What am I missing?"

"You, my friends, are very dear to me. It seems a lifetime since we last were together, and yet here we are conversing like the old times. Since school, I have learned that the ideas and the knowledge that I learned as a pup - from my family, from the teachers and classes, and from you all, my friends - this knowledge is simply a beginning. The adventure is not in what we do, it is in what we learn along the way."

Wolf paused again, glanced backward at his pack as if to gain permission for what he would say next. With a silent nod from each, permission was granted.

"Squirrel," Wolf began, "your knowledge is a single acorn. It is one seed that, with the right nourishment, will grow into a tree that will shed many more acorns, which will then grow and populate a forest of understanding." He turned to Rabbit, and looked at her deeply with his piercing stare.  "Your knowledge, Rabbit, is but a single bud in a field of wildflowers. Taken by itself, it is beautiful, but that beauty has an end. When placed with the rest of the meadow, when seen as one bud amongst millions, its beauty is infinite." If rabbits could blush, she would have just then.

Wolf continued: "Beaver, your knowledge is a solid trunk that has just been hewn. You know better than all that a single hewn log is worth only what it can be stacked against, and so it is with your knowledge. You must find a second log, and then a third, and so on until we see not a collection of logs, but rather a unified structure with purpose.

"And Coyote," said Wolf with an air of intentionally exaggerated weight, "your knowledge is a giggle, and from the giggle grows a laugh, and from a single laugh there comes a chorus of laughs. You can bring a chorus of joy to the world if you want. But to reach the chorus, you must understand your audience, you must understand how your giggle can lead to laughter, and how that laughter can change the world. Forgive me the figurative language - this is simply how I see it."

The friends were stunned, and did not initially react. So Wolf concluded with this:

"My life," he said, "is not about any one thing, or any two things, or any three. It is about knowledge, and knowledge cannot be measured in ones and twos and threes." He cast a backwards glance and said:  "These wolves are my family, and I would do anything for them. In my heart, I know that they would do the same for me. And so it is that I must constantly strive to be the best wolf that I can be, no matter the circumstance, no matter the danger, and no matter the challenge. That takes knowledge, and when knowledge is ready, it will become wisdom.

"My life is about finding out who I am as a wolf and what I can achieve; about finding out who I am in a pack of wolves and what we can achieve together; it is about finding out who I am in a world full of creatures that are not wolves, and what we can all achieve in the harmony of Life."

For some reason, Squirrel found himself on the verge of tears. He choked them back long enough to squeak out the words: "I wish I had learned what you have learned." Rabbit, and Beaver, and Coyote all nodded in agreement.

Wolf's next words were quiet and full of a genuine power.

"You still can, my friends. You still can."

Part VI: Epilogue

        Squirrel had changed. He still had an impressive cache base, and he continued foraging and storing nuts just as before. However, after returning from his journey, he gave about half of his total store of nuts to his neighbors and other forest friends who didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the demands of the woods. This simply was not done in the animal world, and so the forest was abuzz about the gesture and about the reason. When asked, Squirrel simply smiled and said that, upon reflection, he really did have too many nuts.

        Life settled back into cozy normalcy. Seasons blew in, rained down, shone bright, and floated off. Squirrel continued to follow his path much like before, only now he could often be found sitting on a branch, tail tucked about his legs, nose pointed toward the breeze, eyes closed, and mouth gently spread into a smile. He would stay that way sometimes for a few minutes, and sometimes for only a few seconds, and then with a swish of his tail, he would bounce off again.

        Beaver, Rabbit, and Coyote often reunited with Squirrel, and occasionally with Wolf as well. The five friends remained close throughout the years, sometimes embarking on wondrous adventures and sometimes embarking on simple picnics or hikes. As time continued circling around, each of the friends found families and the happiness that families bring, but they always found time to come together, time to visit the forest, or the meadow, or the river, or the prairie, or the majestic blue-tinted mountains where the howls of the wolves drift in and out of the breeze and soak again into the horizon.