Side by Side

Or, same sentiment, different medium/artist:

From "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking"

Two together!
Winds blow south, or winds blow north,
Day come white, or night come black,
Home, or rivers and mountains from home,
Singing all time, minding no time,
While we two keep together.

by Walt Whitman


She calls him Bear, he calls her Bird. Bear's a homebody -- would prefer spending time in his den to just about anywhere else, loves his long winter's naps, and contentedly wears grooves in the paths of his life -- he'd prefer not to have to think so hard and so much about things, and just do what comes naturally.

Bird, though, is a restless soul. Nesting, then flying, then nesting again, then flying, and on and on. As she gets older, the flying part is getting more and more wearisome, for though she's a bird, she doesn't travel particularly lightly (damn all of those books and magazines and craft supplies and record albums!) Still, she has a habit of saving cardboard boxes and bubble wrap. She looks at maps, and plans escape routes.

Bird sometimes feels stuck in jobs, in places, in situations, but she never feels stuck with Bear. Every day feels like a new adventure. She nudges him, wakes him from his slumber, and shows him a different path to tread, and he always, always gives her a warm, sturdy place to land. And so onward they go.