"I'm sorry. I'm so wrapped up in my ideas that I didn't even ask. How was your trip?"
"Well enough, I suppose." He didn't offer any more and she didn't press. He would tell her when he was ready.
She drank some more of the water. "Do you suppose there are any pesticides in this water?. I mean it's so far from our so-called civilized world."
"So-called?" He was watching her in that strange way again.
"Yes, I wonder about our idea of civilized sometimes. Only mankind would consider the ability to destroy the earth, a sign of intelligence - and call it civilization."
He laughed. "I never thought of it quite that way, but you have a point." He guided her back toward the forest. "What do you think we should do, burn all our clothes and run naked through the woods, living like monkeys?"
She grinned. "Well, that would be a little drastic, but it wouldn't hurt us to use some alternate methods to pest control."
"Such as?"
She tucked a strand of hair back into her topknot and followed him into the forest. "Such as friendly insects. When we use pesticides, we kill them as well as the harmful insects - and even the bees."
His pace was slower now and she had no trouble keeping up with him. "Take our roses, for instance. When they get infested with aphids, do we think about their enemy, the praying mantis? No, we immediately go out and buy the strongest insecticide we can get."
He paused, turning to survey her with a faintly amused expression. "All right, suppose we bought a jar of live Praying Mantises at our neighborhood pest control store. How many aphids can he eat in a day? And," he went on, holding up a hand when she started to protest. "After he eats all the aphids, what are we going to do, starve him, or buy more aphids?" His eyes were twinkling, but only the ghost of a smile played around his mouth.
She lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, snapping a dry vine off and examining it as though unaware of the mockery of his question. "So give him to someone else who's having aphid problems."
He winked. "A Mantis leasing program? How long does a Praying Mantis live, anyway?"
She tossed the vine at him, along with a wry grin. "Who knows?" She made a face. "Why do our conversations always degenerate like this?"
He caught the vine and grinned. "Just because you don't know the answer doesn't mean the conversation has degenerated." He turned back to the trail and she followed while he continued teasing her. "I'll bet there's a National Geographic special on this very subject."