For me...it was the first time that the crow's call ever sounded so sweet - against the crescendo of the surf...the first time that the sunlight caught its raven-blackness and sent it shimmering over outstretched wings, sparkling with a brightness I'd never seen - the flash of polished hematite with the promise of diamonds.

It may have been the night before that held the magic within itself, clutching it tightly in the stars before surrendering it to the morning surf and the tide pools, and the crow's wings as it soared from the tallest of the firs to the breeze-washed row of shrubs along the beach's edge. Crows should always call at dawn this way - in the sunlight with black diamonds.

August 2000 at Newport - Agate Beach