CORVUS THE CROW
An ancient star myth
Copyright © 2011 by Mary Rae
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It may be hard for us to believe, living as we do in a cramped little universe of concrete, unclean air, and rivers thick with sludge, but once the world was a beautiful place. Geologists confirm that the earth was made up almost entirely of white mountains rising out of sapphire seas, and we are told by zoological experts that golden sheep grazed on hillsides where the lightest rain could make strange flowers bloom. Imagine a paradise so large that it took almost forever to go from one place to another, and paint, for a moment, serenity on every face, and in every tree, an elegant bird! It doesn’t take much more to conjure peacocks lounging in lemon groves, and pheasants lining every stream, sipping at their leisure. It was a beautiful world, and there were even enough crows to brighten the endless night sky—for crows, at that time, had silver white feathers that caught the starlight and shimmered it down to earth as they flew. They all sang sweetly in those days, but one crow among all could make the sirens themselves weep with envy. His name was Corvus.