Between the hills and the channel, the crows flew into cornfields as they had two hundred years before; the crows were chased from the nests of sparrows and starlings as they had been a thousand years before; the crows made their raucous calls as they had as long as earth could remember.

“Crows” by chrissymllr @ DeviantArt.com

On the shore, the channel waves pushed and pulled grains of sand as they had under the same sun, time forgotten. The salty water, warmed by the same rays, made little lives from its brine, time undefined. The breeze rose from one direction and flew to another, mixing sun and sea, making fog and rain, until no one and nothing remembered when it began, until the habit of creation was no longer noticed.

~

The cars drove by in single file, from the bridge to the highway, from the highway to the town. The cars drove by.

One stopped at the corner, where the arrow points left. They stopped at the corner by the sea. Two heavy sons stepped out, one from the right and one from the left. Then one heavy driver stepped out. Another came after, with a camera. They didn’t smile. The waves pulled and pushed grains of sand. They stood together but without their bodies touching; then, with their mouths they smiled. The tide had drawn back like a curtain, revealed the glistening strand. The photographer urged the passengers closer. The salty breeze caressed their hair. The lens saw the people, the car.

Crows flew over, chased by starlings. The starlings twittered, the crows raucously replied. The lens flicked. The bodies’ surfaces were captured by a few rays of the sun; the heavy boys slid back into their seats; they pecked at their electronics. The one who held the camera was apparently satisfied; the heavy driver turned the key. The sound of the engine overrode the calls of the birds. The four left the sea unseen.

Sunlight sparked off the ripples in the channel, making little life, as it had done since the beginning of time.

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