Thomas Doty – Storyteller

Siskiyou Pass

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Crows

August sunrise at the outdoor pool in Ashland. Lap swimmers cut through steam. Without a word, faint-shaped crows gather near the edge of the water.

In native Mythtime, Crow was there when the sun and moon were just starting to walk, when Coyote stole fire. Crow was there on the edge of things, strutting and gargling, causing trouble and blaming somebody else. One crow makes a trickster, two or more a gang clad in black leather.

After dive-bombing the swimmers, crows hide in the trees at the edge of the pool, singing their innocence. "Who? Us? We've been here the whole time. Just ask the jays. Must have been somebody else out there in the mist."