In the heart of a tranquil wetland, a majestic crane stood alone. The crane’s eye mirrored the emotions within its avian soul. As it gazed across the dwindling expanse of its habitat, there was a profound sadness in that glossy eye, reflecting the profound loss the crane felt as its once-thriving home succumbed to the relentless march of human development. The melancholy in the crane’s eye was palpable, a silent witness to the beauty and serenity that had faded into the distant echoes of memory. Its obsidian gaze, once filled with the vibrant reflection of lush wetlands and harmonious sounds, now stared at the patchwork of concrete and steel that replaced its sacred haven. The crane’s eye, an ancient sentinel, longed for the days when its graceful dances and melodious calls filled the air without interruption, its beady orb now telling a silent story of despair and yearning. Amidst the sorrow, the crane’s eye also held a spark of hope. In its inky depths, a determination gleamed—a promise to preserve its habitat’s memory and tirelessly advocate for conservation. The crane’s eye was a window to its inner world, where the resilience of nature and the tenacity of the crane’s spirit shone through. It yearned for the day when the wetland’s beauty and serenity would be restored, and the deep sorrow within that obsidian eye would be replaced with the joy of knowing that future generations would have a home to return to.
~ Robert David Atkinson