She cooed in his ear and looked at him with eyes gleaming with hope like the clear blue sky. She sensed that chance had once again opened its door when the windows of heaven were closed and the rain of despair was restrained. The previously terrible climate had faded away. Entering now was daylight of opportunity.
It had been forty days since she had seen the sun of chance, and she heard that months must pass before the waters of sorrow would abate. Such news inundated her as being unpleasantly cold and upsetting. But all this – the divine warnings, the nonappearance of sun from sky, the almost never-ending torrential rain, the flood that caused the drowning of mankind, and the baffling mystery of the gargantuan vessel that saved eight humans and hundreds of animals – made a grand impression on her already. She was now a believer of bad news. It was not because she was at ease with it. She was an observer, a witness, and she was appalled at what she saw. Besides, she had found no rest for the sole of her foot. So she went back to the ship without any good news.
A few hours later her old friend stood near the vessel's window and announced one more bad report. It was about a large and shiny black bird, a raven. The ravenous raven was supposed to look for dry land. It was suspected by some that the bird went flying about, maybe even feeding on carrions that floated on the foul-smelling waters. Yes, the ungrateful one never came back that day. That raven just went forth to and fro, never returned until the waters were dried up from the face of the earth.
The moment he narrated that sad story she seemed to understand that a carnal man, like the raven, enjoys the world, constantly nourishing its animal nature, its fleshly lusts. She also remembered that old world where she once lived. It was a dark world where chance was god – without purpose, without faith. Meaningless. But she had remained steadfast, unswerving in her conviction.
Seven days had passed quickly. The golden sun resolved to start life anew. The first morning hours were fresh, cool and clear. But the observer went out at the crack of dawn toward the glorious east. Today her hope had grown stronger. She felt no distress whatsoever. She joyously soared on the vast firmament. Even the whoosh of the wind had sent her spirits soaring as well. She had always believed that sky travel would teach anyone positive outlook on life and better sense of direction. She had learned to change ways too when the forces of nature vacillate. But now with that pleasant weather, she was consoled. She was further reassured when she saw the growing grass, the flowers blossoming, and the fruit trees that had began to surface. A new beginning. Ah, it was delightful!
At last evening began to fall, so bright was the moonlight, not a single cloud in sight, and the stars danced merrily, glittering in excitement. She paused to watch and, for a moment, took pleasure in the gentle breeze. Then she went back to the ark and brought an olive leaf. So her old friend would know that the murky waters were subsiding.
She returned to her friend, the patriarch, who would soon be known as the sole bridge connecting the old and the new world. Her mission with him was magnificent. And Noah was thankful for her. She was absolutely heaven-sent.
