It was morning, as it always was, and the earth was new, stretched out like a smooth, colorless mattress far beneath the wings of Crane. She loved the air rushing past her as She flew here and there and all around the broad expanses that never ran out. But just as She wandered, so did her mind, for the sky was always the same. What can I do to make this new again?, She wondered.

Crane thought of decorations for the sky. She scooped up the light in her wings and collected it into a ball. The ball of light was much like her, a being of goodness, and so it too, was warm. She blew out foggy wisps, some thick, some meandering, which became the clouds. The colors were born that first evening. When She brought forth a silvery globe and white speckles upon a dark background, the colors erupted from light to protest its absence. It was a grandiose finale of the time before, the one long day of prehistory. In the same way, the colors reappeared from light on the second morning, to celebrate the return to its home, the sky.

And so Crane flew, engrossed in her marvelous creation, but a part of her was unhappy. She looked sorrowfully to the lonely ground, for it was now plain compared to its brother, the sky. A goddess of equality, She decided to bestow shape upon the ground. She soared through the sky, experimenting with great dives and steady climbs for the first time. The ground was surprised, and moved beneath her to keep the same distance that had always existed before. Where she plummeted, great valleys were carved; where she lifted, hills and mountains rose up. Then, she took a dive so steep and deep that the earth broke instead of bending and bled a substance much like liquid sky. This became the great Mississippi. Upon seeing its beauty, Crane decided that such an existence shouldn't have to live alone, the only of its kind. She took another, slightly less drastic dive and carved out a little brother for Mississippi, the Rock. The blood trickled out to form the streams and creeks, and some splashed high into the sky from which it still falls today. Upon seeing his brother's transformation, the sky shook color down upon him, a gift to honor his evolution.

But when She finished, Crane was still lonely. The world was now a beautiful place, and she was the only one to know it. She lifted her voice to prevent silence, isolation from hanging in the air a second longer among such beauty. A radiant voice was expelled, and at once, ten voices were there with hers. Fellow birds, though much smaller and not of comparable elegance, were with her floating through the air. "Go and sing life into the world," she commanded them. Now that there were multiple minds, language was a necessity. How interesting, she thought. My thoughts just escaped my mind. The birds thought nothing of it. They were already out into the world, fulfilling the wishes of their creator. Deep notes grew the moss and fed the extremities of bushes; high notes prompted great oaks and maples to sprout into the sky. Unique phrases of notes conjured animals like the deer, chipmunk, and butterfly. They could move, just as the dancing melodies that rang them into existence. So when a bird sings, life is being shot out through the air. An animal is born.

Crane felt compelled to partake in this artistic endeavor. However, her creations would be more complicated, more refined, closer to her. They would hold a little bit of her soul within them. She let a piercing string of notes reverberate through the sky. When they reached the ground, the first human rose up near where the earth had once bled. Seeing this lone figure, Crane sang out for another, this time using a different combination of notes. A new, unique figure was there. Astonished, Crane tried a new tune and a similar, yet unique being was formed. She sang happy upbeat phrases, and slow, pained ones, airy lighthearted musings, and complex beats, some sharp, some slurred together, and each created a human below with a little bit different body, a slightly different outlook on life. As each was born, they saw their graceful creator in the sky above. Crane swooped down for the first time touching the earth. She only told them that which had already occurred, for the rest they would learn or be a part of. She gave them one piece of advice. "Care for one another," she told them. Then she was gone.

Crane had a large kingdom to sing life into, and she had to be on her way. But as soon as She was gone, coldness set upon the earth. The trees lost their color and the people shivered in the frigid air. After awhile, even the ground lost its color to whiteness being shed from the dreary sky. The animals disappeared, for the birds' songs were not present to give them life. Only the globe of light above and Crane's spirit inside the humans kept them warm at all. The people were angry with Crane.

After Crane had made her journey of creation, she returned to her first people, bringing her brigade of birds along. They flew through the sky, radiating warmth back to the land where the earth had once bled. But the people resented Crane for the time they had just endured. Their hearts had been made cold by the dark days that had passed, the first winter. Crane brought warmth back to them, but she was angry. Her frustration blossomed from their inability to accept her other obligations. How selfish and ungrateful for them to resent her! So on that first spring, her winged followers and She flew in circles until a great wind funnel formed. With a swipe of her powerful wings, she sent this tunnel down upon the earth. It ripped up the ground, pulled the earth's blood the sky, and Crane's great wing thrashed down to earth in a yellowish bolt. The humans were terrified and remorseful. When fear and forgiveness was fully bestowed upon Crane, the bouts tapered off. The people's hearts were warmed by spring. The birds' songs brought the animals back, and color returned. They enjoyed a beautiful summer together.

But unfortunately, Crane couldn't stay forever. She had other places to warm. As her departure neared, the earth cooled because resentment and hurt was let back into the air. The trees burst with color in a final attempt to make Her stay. But it wasn't enough. Crane remained loyal to her other beings- as loyal as she had been to the first ones. She left, taking her warmth and her birds with her. The world became cold and dead again. However, this time the people knew of spring. When Crane returned, they were displeased with Her at first, but not to the extent they had been the previous winter. That spring, only a little liquid fell from the sky and there were fewer wind storms. So we must keep hope and warmth in our hearts through the winter, and Crane will bring us a safe spring upon her return.