I suppose if I am to write a blog entitled ‘The Fox and the Crane’ I ought to tell you about the Crane.  Trouble is, I don’t know much about her.

No one does, really.

They say, Those Who Know, that it was the Crane who formed the world, shedding water from her breast to form oceans and feathers from her flesh to form the land.  But this is only one story.

They say she met the Fox for supper one evening, and that he served her in a shallow dish to spite her long, narrow beak.

They say she wove her very own feathers into cloth for a poor man that had saved her life, and that this poor man (who had once, long ago, made a deal with Foxes) broke her heart and drove her away.

They say that her heart was the only treasure the Fox never was able to steal.