“What do you do?” asked the fern of the gear.

“I spin.  In spinning, I turn others,” answered the gear.  “What do you do?”

“I drink in the sunlight from the sky and the water from the earth.  I change the light into energy and the dirt into food.  I spread over vast fields, and penetrate deep forests.  I feed some animals, and when I die, I will return nourishment to the earth for those that will come after.”  The fern stood tall, pride showing.

The gear thought as it spun.  “Sounds complicated.”

“It is miraculous!  I am a product of untold changes over untold years.  I will pass that on to those that come after, who will also change, becoming perfect for the world in which they live.”  The fern shook its leaves, thrilled with its perfection.

The gear thought again for a time.  “I came from a factory.  There are many others, exactly like me.  We spin, and in spinning, turn each other.”  It thought again as it spun.  “I perform the task for which I was designed.”

The wind blew through the fern’s leaves, tickling them.  “Hee!”

The gear spun, and in spinning, turned others.