From an upcoming project ~ Raven’s Journey:
Chapter Two: Work of Spirits
Raven had no doubt spirits created this depressing weather event. He pondered, though, whether the melancholic haze was a punishment or were the spirits trying to hide something? Why had they excluded him? Raven sat without a clue, in a tree, getting wet.
“Impatient and annoyed, he agilely lifted from the water- soaked branch and flew west towards the constancy of the surf’s sound. Wasting no time finding his favorite cove, one filled with an abundance of flotsam, he circling low and landed on a bleached cedar drift log, its broken trunk wedged solidly into the beach’s sand and rubble. The log’s massive, but shallow interwoven root structure lay exposed to the sea. The roots snagged the drifting kelp strands and other debris that floated adrift during high tide. It also made for a safe viewing perch, used by all manner of bird life. From this vantage point, Raven spied a cracked clam shell dropped by another forager lying on the tree’s broad trunk but when he flipped the shell over, he found it empty. He jerked his head and tossed the shell into the air, strutted down the log’s length, spread his wings softly and hopped onto the pebble-strewn beach.
The morning’s high tide had brought in long strands of slippery brown seaweed, dumping it in clumps about the exposed beach. Maneuvering his thick black bill, Raven carefully pecked through the tangle of rubbery plants extricating small crabs and shellfish, some still alive and hiding in the weeds, while others smashed lifeless by the tumbling wave action. Finding a rich harvest, he had no trouble cracking their shells and quickly devoured his fill, relishing their life-giving energies. Peering about, he spied a shallow, amber-colored flow of run-off water pouring across the beach stones a few stiff-legged hops away. Dipping his beak into a slight depression filled with the sweet water, Raven tilted his head back and let the refreshing liquid drain down his throat.
Ever vigilant for signs indicating change, Raven noticed a light breeze ruffling his feathers, a very good sign. He desperately wanted a stronger wind to dissipate the mists and blow all traces of the fog away. Ahead of him, the shoreline slowly came into focus. It was not just because he knew it so well that he recognized what should be there; the mists swirled and actually dissipated before his eyes, exposing an intensely green shoreline bordered with stands of evergreens and deciduous trees, mosses, ferns and berry bushes. Raven nodded, encouraged; although inland, the forest still lay draped in shadowy grays.”…to be continued.