Spring had just sprung, and the air was buzzing with excitement! A sleek Swallow, with feathers like polished midnight blue, zipped and zoomed through the sky. He loved to show off how fast and graceful he was.

Down on a sturdy branch sat an old Crow. His feathers were plain black, and he wasn't nearly as quick as the Swallow.

The Swallow swooped down, landing lightly beside the Crow. "Well, hello there, Mr. Crow!" chirped the Swallow, puffing out his chest. "Isn't it a lovely day? Perfect for flying, wouldn't you say? Especially for someone as handsome and speedy as me!"

The Crow blinked his dark eyes slowly. "It is a fine day, young Swallow," he cawed in his raspy voice.

"Just look at my feathers!" the Swallow went on, preening a wing. "So smooth, so shiny! And I can fly for miles and miles, chasing the summer wherever it goes. When winter comes, I'm off to warm, sunny lands!" He gave a little flutter. "What about you, Crow? Your feathers look a bit… sturdy. And you stay here all year, don't you?"

The Crow nodded. "That's right, Swallow. My feathers aren't as flashy as yours, it's true. And I don't fly away when the cold winds blow."

"Exactly!" said the Swallow, thinking he'd made his point. "My beauty is for the warm, bright sunshine!"

"Indeed," rumbled the Crow. "Your beauty is wonderful for the summer. But my strong, plain feathers keep me warm even when the snow is deep and the trees are bare. I see the world change through every season. While you are enjoying the sun far away, I am here, strong and steady. My strength lasts all year round, through sunshine and storm."

The Swallow tilted his head, thinking about that. Maybe being flashy and fast wasn't the only thing that mattered.

1666 Views