He stood at the edge of the basin and looked beyond. A sea of evergreens met his eyes, an occasional flock of birds erupting into the crisp blue sky and into the horizon beyond. Snow-capped mountains jutted against the skyline, just barely covering the sun as it set into a brilliant flare of red-orange. The colors reflected beautifully off a nearby lake, on which a half dozen swans pruned ivory feathers.
This was life. Thoreau was no fool; nature was our greatest teacher and greatest example. He turned to look in the direction opposite of the cliff, where the city smog billowed from the industrious, poisonous, dangerous society he dared call “the norm.”
With a sigh, of relief or grief it is difficult to tell, he leaped off the cliff, hoping that something, someone, would save him, and if not, that he would fall painlessly to his end–or into another beginning.
mind's eye 