Once upon a time two young crows, as they soured above the trees, spotted a field of grain. The stalks were tall and the grains were plump so the large crow said to the smaller “come let us go down to the field and eat our fill of grain.”
But the smaller balked at the idea stopping in mid air and replying. “I see a man among the grain. Surely the man is there watching the fields.”
A condescending smile spread across the big crow’s face and he said, “Come follow me and I will show you the truth.” At that, to the small crow’s horror, the large crow descended, landing on top of the man’s head…. but unlike the warnings of their elder kinsmen the man did not move. Seeing there was no apparent danger, the small crow followed landing next to his large friend with astonished amazement.
“Here me now and I will tell you the truth. Listen to me for I do not lie. Man is a myth.” The big crow informed confidently. “A fable tale devised by our shrewd and clever elders to keep us out of the fields in order that the plump grains would be theirs alone. No my small friend, man does not exist.”
At that he plucked some straw from the figure on which they sat revealing the figure was an unmistakable fake. “You see my friend. It is no man: a cleaver trick of the mind. Look and see…do you think it’s only a coincidence that this figure is made of the same straw our elders use to make their nests?”
“But I see a mill among the grain.” The small crow interjected “Surely our elders could not build such a grand structure. Surely man is somewhere watching the fields.”
But the big crow sneered and replied “come follow me and I will show you the truth” So the two flew up and perched in the open window of the grand mill.
Sitting in the mill window, the small crow turned and said “If man is a myth then how do you explain this mill or the large piles of flour at the bottom?”
But with confident eyes the big crow replied. “Did man make this grain? Did man grind the grain into flour? No my friend. The flour was not ground to a fine powder by anything but the wind. Listen to me and I will instruct you. Hear what I have learned and you will see. Is it not the wind when it blows that turns the wheel? Is it not the wheel that turns that grinds the grain? Let us watch and you will see.”
“But how did this mill get here then? And what split the boards and drove in the nails?” the small crow asked.
“Listen to me and I will explain. Hear my explanation and you will see. Is it unknown how the lightning splits the greatest of trees. Is it not more probable that the power of natural lightning is what formed the boards? Is it not known that lightning does this regularly and the forests are set ablaze by its power?”
“But how are they here and what drove in the nails?” the small bird responded.
“Was it a man that did this? Is it not more likely that the wind preformed this feet. Have you ever seen a man or watched him carry wood? Have you ever watched a man drive in nails? Have you ever even seen a man at all? No…But was it not just last week when the mighty tornado swept through the valley. Did its winds have trouble picking up anything? Were not entire trees forced to obey its will? Did it not drive even the flimsiest straws through the bark and wood? Yes you have seen the winds with your own eyes and know the wind is well capable of both setting the wood and driving the nails. So what will you believe? What you have seen yourself or what you have been told?”
Silenced and speechless, the small crow could not argue a word and furthermore as he sat considering all that big crow had pointed out, the wind blew and the wheel of the mill began to turn. The two crows looked down into the mill and saw the mill stone turning and grinding the grain into fine powder and at the sight the small bird resolved to reality.
“You see.” boasted the big crow, “It is only the wind that grinds the grain, nothing more. Man is a myth. There are no watchmen. No angry guns lying in wait: only the fables of past elders to keep us under control and out of the choice fields.”
So the two hopped off of their perch and happily descended to the plump succulent stalks of grain.
[FONT="]….But their trespass was noticed. And their careless disregard of the warnings ended in a sharp thunderous crack realizing too late as they fell to the ground… the myth was real.
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