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Seasons
By James Michael (Butch) Grant
1941-2006

   The view below was a panorama of green and golden patches drawn out in neatly placed squares and rectangles. Tiny odd shaped mirrors sparkled here and there, wherever water was held in the land's depressions. What few clouds there were, drifted lazily below Ker as he glided toward the rising sun. The slight chill he had felt briefly when he first roused from last night's sleep made him realize the sun was getting later each morning. Most of the flock was already awake before he shook the sleep from his feathers, and set out to check the pasture he had seen being mowed yesterday. There would be seeds scattered about, and probably more than a few displaced crickets and grasshoppers to make breakfast of.

   But, once in the air, the urge to climb high above the low hanging clouds, and look toward the glow above the horizon tugged at him stronger than the little hunger he felt. He loved his mornings alone and high above the trees and meadows of Zindar, he was one with the universe. The gentle breeze held him up with its velvet out stretched arms, and beckoned him to ride with it until the sun was overhead. Sweet smells of freshly cut hay and smoke from a fireplace somewhere, mixed together to form an elixir that promised things Ker did not understand. But he loved them just the same. Sometimes he got these feelings, not knowing what they were. Not knowing what they meant, nor, what caused them, or why he felt them. He just did.

   The morning was perfect. The breeze was steady and gentle, and as the land below warmed, it lifted Ker even higher with no effort on his part at all. With the sun bright in his eyes now, Ker banked to the right and dipped slightly as he turned to face the breeze head on. This was what he loved the most. Gaining speed as he descended against the wind, he pulled the tips of his wings backward and stretched his head forward like an arrow piercing the sky. He dove, and arched up, and banked and soared, until the black feathers on his back were warm from the sun shining on them. Only then, did Ker remember he was hungry, and thought of the crickets and grass hoppers waiting for him in the freshly mowed pasture. His built-in compass turned him in the direction of the pasture, and he spread his tip feathers like fingers on a hand, to keep the lift working, as he glided toward breakfast.

   A small pond, a watering hole for live stock, glinted flickering lights from it's rippled surface as Ker angled across it. From the sparkling surface, Ker saw a brief flash of color that was different from the others around it. A moment of curiosity blinked in his mind, and then just as quickly, disappeared. The water, however, he kept in his memory. He might be thirsty after eating.

   The flock was there, and they were fussy and noisy as they ran and jumped and flapped in competition for what was more than all of them together could eat in a week. Ker glided quietly to earth, far enough away from the foray that he was not noticed, but where plenty of lively grass hoppers were busy eating the tender hay. Ker knew this food was not going to last much longer, and they had all better get as fat as they could, while it lasted. He knew the rhythm, this was not his first year. He could not remember how many white times, that were cold, he had been through. How many times he had huddled with the flock on the ground while the wind screamed and turned white around them. Sometimes, when the air cleared, all would be covered by the white. Some to never move again. The cold would make Ker hurt and make his wings stiff at times, so stiff he could only hop around and scratch in the white to find something to eat. There were times when there was nothing to find.

   But, today there was plenty and Ker ate until he was not interested in crickets or grasshoppers anymore. He was full and wanted to soar among the clouds again, and he was thirsty.

   A few strokes of his powerful wings lifted Ker above the treetops that stood between the pasture and the pond. As he glided toward the water, again he spotted, just briefly, a flash of color that was different from all the other flashes on the pond. The pond's edge was soft and damp, and Ker's feet left small impressions on it's surface as he landed at the water's edge. Each time he filled his beak and turned his head upward to drink, he could see that flash of brilliant color across the water. Filled at last, he stood tall and cocked his head slightly to try to see what was giving such a beautiful show of color. Finally, he spotted the source and lifted softly from the ground to get a better look. She was floating among others like herself, busily paddling back and forth dipping into the water occasionally with her beak. Ker lifted higher, then quietly glided across the water toward her. There were many of them floating near each other and they seemed oblivious to Ker as he passed over head. All but one. She followed his movement with apparent interest, her iridescent blue-green plumage sparkling in the sunlight. As he came to a rest on the other side of the pond, the sound of rushing wind went through Ker's ears, but the grasses and bushes nearby were still. A pressure rose in Ker's chest that he had never felt before, and he felt his heart beating in his ears. She watched him silently as his nervousness made it's self known by his twitching of wings and glancing back and forth along the water's edge. She was looking at Ker, but he could not make himself look directly at her. He did not know what was happening, and was suddenly frightened. With a noisy rush of wings he vaulted into the air, causing a flurry of activity among the flock of teal on the water.

   She watched as Ker lifted himself off the ground and was still looking in his direction as he landed in a tree, some distance away. His heart was pounding wildly now and Ker felt dizzy and a little light headed as he grasped the first tree limb he could find. He sat motionless for a long time, letting his nerves settle down while trying to figure out what had happened.

   The biggest and most lustrous black raven in the flock slept a fitful sleep that night. He twitched and fluttered all night, awake more than asleep. Brilliant blue-green flashes kept flitting through his mind, stirring feelings he neither understood nor liked. The morning light was met with sleepy eyes, as Ker dropped from his roost and rose on heavy wings to his favorite place in the sky, high above the landscape. The rising sun beckoned, but Ker's mind was elsewhere. To the south and just over the horizon was a little pond that held his every thought captive. Try as he might he could not soar or bank or dive, without glancing in it's direction. Without knowing how or why, he was drawn to that little pond like a magnet. Giving in, he used his built in compass again, this time to guide him to where he feared but could not resist.

   He flew high and to the east of the pond searching the water for her and hoping she would be gone. Every year they came to rest and feed, then they would leave, gone to where ever they spent the white time. Always together, they stayed to themselves, never joined the others in the fields, or in the trees. Ker had seen them every year but paid no attention to them. They were not like him or the others. They came in high, circled once or twice then dropped from the sky, straight to the pond. They spent a few days, always in the water, and then they were gone. His heart sank. He could see them all in the middle of the pond, but no shiny colors. He circled and dropped lower to get a better look at the small flock that huddled in the water. Straight across the water he glided, not more than four feet from the water's surface. But not one glimpse of bright color. Landing at the water's edge once again, Ker looked back and forth across the pond and felt a sick feeling take hold of something inside him. He should be glad, now he can soar and be part of the sky again, he can sleep and rest for the white time. Now he can go hunt crickets and grass hoppers. Now he can do all the things he wants to do. But he stands there, stands and looks across the water and hurts in a way he has never hurt before, and does not know why.

   A flash of green among the cattails, then another. Ker's heart soars as though it has wings of it's own. She paddles quickly from the bushes and is headed straight toward him. Ker cannot move, his wings are frozen to his side and his feet are stuck to the ground, he is terrified and thrilled.

   She swam straight to the water's edge, in front of Ker and stopped. The world stood still and watched the battle that raged in his head. Everything inside Ker was going so fast he couldn't keep up, but on the outside nothing would move. Tipi floated quietly to where her feet touched the soft bottom, then walked toward him until they were so close Ker could smell her sweet breath. With her tiny head cocked to one side, she looked into his trembling eyes with all the curiosity of a fledgling. Ker was terrified, he could not move or even blink. Tipi eased closer and to one side, keeping her eyes on Ker. She turned her head slightly as she approached to the right, but Ker could only move his eyes. He was so tense he thought surely something would break. Her eyes sparkled almost as much as her iridescent plumage as she stretched her neck toward him. The tip of her beak barely brushed the back of his head . . . and the world exploded. The spring that had been wound to the limit in Ker's muscles unwound in a fury of feathers and rushing wind.

   Powerful wings pulled at the air and shoved it behind him until the pond was barely visible far below and behind him. When he banked and looked back, Ker could still see the brilliant blue-green dot by the water's edge, and his heart soared. He dove and banked and plunged, with his head stretched before him like an arrow. He became a tiny black dot in the sky, then with those little finger-like feathers barely out to the side of his body he streaked down and over the pond, but still high in the sky. Tipi took a few steps with wings out to her side in his direction, but folded them back and slipped quietly back into the water.

   It was a gorgeous day, the air was crisp and clear. So clean and bright, the whole of Zindar sparkled like a jewel far below Ker. He rode the currents as never before, his wings took a life of their own and carried him higher, faster and easier than he could have imagined possible. So high and so far that he got a glimpse of the big water, far to the east. This is when he realized he was tired, the big water always made a tingle run down his spine, and now it brought him back to the real world. A world that was getting late, one where he noticed he was hungry. The sun was low, too low to start looking for food, so he headed back to the trees he and his flock called home.

   That night Ker slept the sleep that comes from hard work and from truly enjoying the whole day, and that Ker had done. When he woke, most of the flock had already left, he had not even noticed the racket they made before they left, or as they took off. He stretched and shook the sleep from his feathers and dropped from his perch with a single thought in his mind. Now he was really hungry. The pasture was already busy with his flock and several smaller flocks of other kinds of birds when he dropped to the ground. It took some scratching today to scare out the grasshoppers and crickets, but there were still plenty of them to be had. By the time the sun began to get warm, Ker was satisfied with eating, and his thoughts turned again to a small pond to the south and a little blue-green teal.

   Tipi had been scolded yesterday and was reluctant to come out of the cat-tails to feed today. She was confused and a little frightened by the ruckus that was caused by her actions when the big raven had visited. This was her first trip, and she wanted to experience every thing there was. She did not understand why the others were so upset by his being there, or by her checking him out. He was different, he was bigger than her, and his black feathers shined with a hint of blue that gave him a look of importance. She enjoyed standing beside him, and, she could tell he was afraid of her. She did not know why, but this excited her and she wanted to be by his side again. Thinking of him seemed to give her a little more courage, and finally, she paddled slowly out into the open. Still, she looked cautiously around before venturing far from the protection of the cat-tails. Everyone seemed busy eating or preening and paid no attention to her, so it was only a moment or so until Tipi was out chasing minnows or an occasional water bug. Life was fun, and being here with her family made it seem perfect. The thought of leaving here and flying for days just to be somewhere else, did not make sense to Tipi. But she knew they had to be far from this area before the days got much shorter. They had been here for two nights and last night she heard another flock, far overhead, headed to where she assumed they would be going. Their sound made her feel sad for some reason, their calls to each other had a lonesome feeling to it. She knew it was so they could tell where everyone was and know they were alright. But it still left her with a feeling of being lost for a while after they had passed.

   But, now it was daylight again and the pond was waking up with the happy sounds she loved. Everyone was flitting here and there catching the little frogs that had not bedded down for the day yet. Silver minnows were crowded up in the shallows, looking like little lights flickering as they darted here and there catching who knows what. Tipi floated lazily out into the open water and just drank it all in.

   At first he didn't spot her, several were out feeding already and three or four of them had the blue-green feathers that he had learned to recognize. But none that were as bright, or as beautiful as the ones he was looking for. A slight mist hung over the water's surface this morning keeping the early rays of the sun from playing its magic on her back. Ker made a wide pass just below the low-lying clouds, keeping himself between the rising sun and the pond. Banking to the west, he came back around. Passing lower this time and with the sun reflecting off the water, he saw her. Lowering his tail and dropping his head in her direction, he descended in a spiral dive that took him to the water's edge nearest her.

   She spotted him before he landed and was already headed in his direction when his feet found the ground. This time he met her at the water's edge and it was his turn to brush the back of her head. She did not explode in a fury of feathers and rushing wind though. Instead, she curled her graceful neck around and preened the back of his neck.

   With the sound of paddle-wheels hitting the water, a dozen, or more infuriated teals rushed at them causing them both to vault into the air.

   Ker couldn't believe what was happening, he was pulling at the air with all his strength to escape this sudden attack, and there she was, just below him, not ten feet behind. He slowed slightly falling back to her side. Looking over at each other, they both ignored the squawking and rushing wings that trailed behind them. One by one the following teal, dropped out and returned to the pond, now far in the distance. Ker expected her to turn and go with the last one, but she flew on. Tipi taking two strokes with her shorter wings to Ker's one, they stayed side by side.

   The sunlight played on their feathers, shooting streaks of blue and green into the morning sky. When it bounced off Ker it flickered with a black so deep, it showed the underlying dark blue. They were as one, his big wing would dip to the right and hers would drop in unison. She would raise her head and flutter upward, he would rise as though tied to her side. Never had a time been more perfect for Ker, he was where he loved to be, and now some how, he was for the first time, complete. Ker stretched his wings to their fullest length and soared, Tipi beat the air with a soothing rhythm and stayed with him. He dropped his right wing and slid underneath her until her wing-tips were touching his on her down strokes. Startled, Tipi shot up-ward and Ker followed until again, her wing tips touched his. This time she let him gently lift her with his powerful wing span, and relaxed. Tipi was thrilled, she was flying and was not having to beat the air. With her wings still outstretched, she held them still, and they soared. When they banked she slid off and fluttered to right herself, then he was there again to carry her along with him. Tipi's heart soared higher than either of them could fly.

   The day just simply disappeared. They never thought of food or rest, just flying. They dipped, they soared, they glided and chased each other over miles of beautiful sky, and they enjoyed being alive. And most of all, being with each other.

   Tipi glanced in the direction of the pond and looked at Ker with a sudden sadness in her eye, and Ker knew it had to end. He thought of the flurry of wings that had sent them skyward, and wondered what would happen when they returned, but he knew he had to return with her. They were met with what seemed like indifference to Ker, but Tipi knew they were upset with her. The whole flock paddled to the other side of the pond without even glancing in Ker's and Tipi's direction, when they floated down to land by the water.

   They stood there for a long time doing nothing. Neither of them had any real thoughts about the day, just inner joy and peace that warmed them from the inside. When Ker lifted himself into the air to find his way to roost, he was aware of splashing and squawking from the pond and felt sad, but he knew there was nothing he could do. That night they both slept with a soundness that nothing could disturb. Not even the cold front that moved across the countryside as they slept was noticed.

   When Ker woke he was starved and thought of the pasture even before his eyes were fully open. Dropping from his perch, he glided out from the protection of the trees and it was then he realized how much cooler it was than yesterday. The crickets and grasshoppers were sluggish this morning, they didn't take the colder air very well and were easy to catch. The only trick was to make them move at all, so he could see them. It took no time for Ker to get his fill, and to realize how thirsty he was. The memory of yesterday had a dream like quality and Ker wondered if it might ever happen again.

   The sound had a lonesome feel to it, one that struck a feeling of sorrow in Ker's mind. They were almost out of sight, they were so high, but there calling to each other was as clear as if they were in the pasture with him. They are leaving Zindar and won't be back until after the white has come and gone. Ker has wondered where they go out over the big water. He went out there once, and resolved to never do it again. There was nothing but water as far as Ker could see and it scared him. There was nothing to land and rest on and the wind blew all the time. It was not a good place to go. But they went out there and they stayed for a long time.

   A sudden fear gripped Ker in his throat and a sinking feeling in his stomach was so fierce it almost buckled his legs. SHE MAY ALREADY BE GONE!!! He could not control himself, his wings wouldn't work fast enough, and he was having a hard time making his eyes focus. He barely cleared the trees that were beside the pond and swooped in toward the water so fast, he had to throw out his wings to keep from crashing into the soft earth at the water's edge. The flock was still there, all gathered in the center of the pond. Ker felt relief, but he did not see Tipi. The teal were squawking and seemed very busy at something. One took off, made a small circle and landed again with a splash. Then another repeated the same performance, all of them were acting very nervous and Ker realized, they were preparing to leave. He still could not find her. The morning was overcast, so the sun wasn't there to make her beautiful coat shine above all the others. Ker took to the air, he had to find her if he had to fly into their midst and scatter them.

   Tipi bolted from the cat-tails, half flying, half running on top of the water. Ker spotted her instantly and swerved in her direction. They lifted in unison and beat their wings as hard as they could to get away from the flurry of wings that followed.

   The flock fell back, but kept coming after them. Tipi had a look of horror in her eyes even though Ker dropped back and shielded her from them with his bigger body. They were not trying to catch up with them, just follow, it seemed. When they cleared the trees, Ker headed straight for the pasture. His own kind was there. When they landed in the pasture, the others of his flock were startled by the rapid beating of little Tipi's wings, but soon went back to eating and paid no more attention to them. The flock of teal continued flying overhead, but in a slow circle around them.

   They began to call back and forth in the flock, and Ker realized the were calling for Tipi to join them. Tipi looked into his eyes with a sadness that broke Ker's heart. He realized she had to go, she could not take the white, that's why they left every year. Tipi knew this too, but couldn't make her self fly up to her own.

   They circled overhead for a few more minutes, calling to Tipi. Twice, one of them came close to where Ker and Tipi stood, and called in a mournful voice. Then one broke from the circle and began to climb and headed straight out in a line that was to the south of the sun. That was in the direction of the big water. Tipi put her trembling little body against Ker's and hung her head so low it almost touched the ground. Ker put his beak under her chin and tried to lift it, but she wouldn't budge. He watched as the rest of Tipi's flock broke the circle and followed the first one, all in a line. They were still calling, but it was getting harder and harder to hear them. Ker could feel the fear in the tiny little teal. And it was plain to see the heart breaking in the magnificent raven's breast that stood beside her.

   The sudden burst of flight was so unexpected, it sent half of Ker's flock into the air also. Tipi's little heart almost stopped when the blast of rushing wind from Ker's wings hit her full force. He rose straight up then out toward the direction the flock of teal took. He banked hard and swooped over Tipi, banked again and came from the other direction. This time he let out a long.. caa.. that hung in the air as he headed out after the flock that was already forming into a vee high overhead. Tipi burst from the ground and beat the air as she had never done before. She almost ran into Ker from behind, as they approached the flock.

   It must have been a strange sight for any that saw it. A perfect vee of teal, wings beating in unison, cutting through the crisp morning sky. And one very large raven flying side by side with one of them. Ker was telling himself, he could do this, he could fly all day and all night without stopping. He had just never tried, that's all. The teal's wings never stopped, never changed beat, never faltered. Ker's took him much farther each beat than theirs, and he constantly had to change his rhythm to stay along side Tipi. He rose above them every now and then and stretched his wings and soared, but when he did he fell behind. Then he would have to hurry to catch up. But, he was doing what he loved to do, and he was doing it with something else, he realized, he loved very much.

   As the sun began to set, Ker was feeling the strain of the day, but all he could see, in all directions, was water. There was nothing to land on, nowhere to rest, and the wings beat on. The darkness brought another fear to Ker's heart, he could not see anything past Tipi, and it was hard to even see her. Now he knew why they called constantly when they were in formation. If they didn't, they would get separated and lost. He wondered how the one in front knew where he was, but remembered his own compass, and felt safer. For a while at least. His wings were heavier than he had ever felt them, and it was becoming harder to stay up with Tipi. He began to wonder how much farther they had to go, and then, how much farther he COULD go.

   When the rain started, Ker knew he was in trouble. The tail wind that had helped him for a while, was now in his face. Tipi glanced over toward him more frequently now, and looked worried, even when he tried to act like he was fine. He knew it was over, even before it happened, but when it did happen, it caught even Ker by surprise. It was like some one had flipped a switch, and Ker's wings would work no more. He tried to extend them and glide to break the fall, but they folded behind him. Tipi called out frantically to him and to the others as she followed him down toward the water. All Ker could do was look her direction and let out one weak.. caa.. before he crashed feet first into the black water. Tipi beat her wings with a fury, circling him and calling with all her might. She saw part of one wing above the water and Ker's beak and one eye, then he was gone. She flew back and forth calling and calling, but there was nothing. She finally realized others were flying around with her, calling to her to return to the flock. Tipi did not know what happened the rest of the night, or care. Her world was gone and she had no desire to continue with the flock or to be where ever it was they were going, but instinct has a way of saving you when you can't, and her wings beat on.

   The morning came without Tipi even realizing it, the sun was already bright and the rain was gone, and she had not even noticed. Her only thoughts were far behind her in that black water. She wanted now, only to get to where ever it was they were going, lay down and die.

   Out of the corner of her eye, she got just a glimpse of the biggest teal she had ever seen, and he was gliding toward her in a break-neck dive. Banking hard just before colliding with her, it curved to it's right and dropped it's tail and dove. With a head that stretched out before him like an arrow, he dove in a streak, with the little feathers on the tip of his wings sticking out like fingers on a hand. When he looped back up and glided beside her, she barely had time to spot the two tiny black feathers, one on each wing tip, before he slid under her and lifted her up in his mighty wing span and soared with her. Her heart soared higher than they could ever fly.

The End

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