Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.

"Summer grasses

It is from the progeny of this parent cell that we all take our looks we still share genes around and the resemblance of the enzymes of grasses to those of whales is in fact a family resemblance.