It was a lovely morning. Crow and Deer went for a walk to talk about the rain and the sun. Crow liked the sun far more than the rain, and Deer was confused by this. “Certainly,” argued Crow, “you don’t prefer to sit all day folded up like a wet rug until a storm passes, do you?” “Uh un”, grunted Deer. “Certainly,” Crow continued, “you don’t like to shiver and shake in the downpours.” “Nuh un”, Deer said.
And Crow continued: “I myself can hide under a ledge up in the sky, or fly ahead of the storm… You… I often see you down there, sad and drenched looking like a soggy log.” “Oh my,” said Deer, “is that how I look to you?”
Deer said “I love the sun, too. It warms my bones and fills me with hope every morning. But when I hope, I hope for rain.”
“Strange thing to say,” said Crow, as he spread his big black wings and headed south, where the sun would be.
Deer continued to graze, sipping the sweet dew from the tenders of prairie grass. “I do like the sun,” Deer was thinking, “but mostly, I love the rain.”