Beasts and boys considered each other. They smelled each other. And suddenly boys of fifteen, fourteen and twelve were children once more. An emotion filled them, a tenderness that none of them had ever known. Peace descended on them and they were not afraid. For a moment, or moments, it was as it had been in the beginning, before fear, before evil, before death, when the earth was new and living things flourished therein, when the earth was fair and all living things dwelt together as kindred. For a moment, or moments, beasts and children were friends, there in the sweetness and silence of the night, there in the calm and the lovely fields.
Glendon Swarthout
Bless the Beasts and Children
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