Peace or harmony in nature is an illusion of time. Viewed at the right speed, all of life erupts in writhing agony.
"Almost" has got to be one of the worst things about being a primate. I don’t think raccoons are viscerally upset when they dig up my sundews without finding any worms or sandwiches or whatever. They just don’t find them. It’s ridiculous. "Almost" doesn’t ever really exist. Things were or weren’t. But we are damned to invent possibilities.